Grey's Anatomy Season 8 and a Half
by InTheBetween
Summary: A continuation of where season eight left off. Episodes are Cristina and Owen centric with appearances from the other characters. There will be a new episode every other Thursday, starting from June 7th and up until the season 9 premiere.
1. Gathering Stories

**Season 8.5 Episode 1: "Gathering Stories" by ebonybeach and shli**

_We are fragile creatures. Easily broken, easily hurt – physically and emotionally. A thin piece of paper can pierce our skin and draw blood. A whispered farewell can break our heart and cause grief. We truly are not built to survive. Yet, we do. Somehow, despite our inherent frailty, we live when we should die and endure when we should fall apart._

Owen stared at the phone on the conference room table, trying to process the voicemail he had listened to a minute ago while waiting to be connected to an operator at Seattle Airlines. _What the hell happened?_The rational part of his brain – the part trained by the US military in ground operations and basic aviation, in logistics and managing catastrophes – was not yet panicking. Major Hunt knew that there could be a simple explanation: one of his staff might have booked the wrong flight or the plane could have been delayed before takeoff. This part of him was busy plotting a course of action: deciding on the first and subsequent steps, assessing all possible outcomes at every stage, and making contingency plans.

But Cristina's husband was not so calm. His mind was racing, his heart rate skyrocketing while the rest of his body seemed frozen solid, leaving him unable to move a single muscle. The thought of what might have happened to six of his best surgeons – to his friends, to his _wife_– was a punch to the gut. He couldn't help but think about the plane crash nearly a year ago now. The crash had a sole survivor – a little girl whose whole world turned upside down in an instant.

That was the day his world turned upside down, too. That was the day Cristina gave him everything he wanted and then took it away again without even asking. He had been lost for so long after all that had happened between them, but right now the thought of losing her – of literally losing her, and not just to another hospital across the country – was so horrendous he felt like he was going to throw up. _If anything happens to her..._Well, he would never forgive himself. For letting her get on the flight, for not fighting harder for their relationship. For giving her an excuse to leave him in the first place and for not telling her he loved her every single day.

The click of the telephone line as his call finally connected startled him back to reality, and a voice filled the air over the pounding of blood in his ears. "Good evening, Seattle Airlines, Jenna speaking. How can I help you?"

Owen's hands tightened around the arms of his chair as he desperately tried to anchor himself in the present.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Yes, hello." He cleared his throat, willing his voice not to sound as shaky as he felt. "I'm calling about a flight. I can't remember the number but it left from Sea-Tac at 1:35 PM. A private plane carrying six of surgeons to pick up two patients from—"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as Jenna cut him off with a gasp that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "I'll just transfer you to head office, Sir," she said far too quickly, and then he was on hold again. Only it felt like his whole life was on hold, too.

The connection was much faster this time. "Hello, this is David Leitch, CEO of Seattle Airlines. Who am I speaking to, please?"

The fact that the head of the company was in the office at this hour did nothing to quell Owen's anxiety, but he took a deep breath and willed himself to be professional. "Hello, I'm Dr. Owen Hunt, Chief of Surgery at Seattle Grace Hospital. Six of my staff took a flight with you this afternoon and they have yet to arrive at their destination. Can you tell me what's happened?"

His voice sounded impatient and raw to his own ears, and there was a pause which felt like an eternity.

"Yes, Dr. Hunt. I am so sorry to inform you, but the plane seems to have fallen off the radar somewhere over Wallowa National Forest in north east Oregon. We lost contact around fifteen hundred hours."

And just like that, the whole world came crashing down. Owen couldn't speak. He just listened numbly as the voice from the phone continued to talk.

"We received no distress calls from the pilot or crew before we lost them. We have been coordinating with search and rescue, who sent out ground crews and two helicopters this afternoon; but the search was called off when it got dark and it will resume again at sunrise. Dr. Hunt, please rest assured that our pilots are exceptionally skilled and it may well be that they landed relatively safely."

Yet from the white hot fear inside of him, Owen managed to the pluck the one question that he already knew would render Mr. Leitch's assurances worthless.

"If they're safe, then why have they not been in contact?"

There was a silence, and it tripped something in his brain. Terror turned to anger, helplessness to an overwhelming urgency to start running and not stop until he had Cristina in his arms again.

"I... Dr. Hunt, I don't know what else I can tell you. But there is still the possibility that your colleagues are all alive and well. We just have to wait until morning."

"My wife was on that plane," Owen said softly, and it was halfway between fury and a frightening surge of grief. "Whatever has happened to them, if any of them are injured, they will struggle to make it through the night. I was a Major in the US Army, Mr. Leitch. I know how difficult it is to survive overnight with no equipment and no supplies. I also know how to find people in the dark even if no one else is prepared to try."

He barely noticed his voice rising, so focused was his mind on his plan of action. "I need to speak to whoever is coordinating the rescue operation. I imagine that's the County Sherriff's Office?"

"Yes, Wallowa County—"

"And I need to get to their HQ," he went on, ignoring Mr. Leitch, who seemed to be crumbling under the force of Owen's resolve. "I presume you have a helicopter I can take?"

"I— Well, not really, Dr. Hunt."

"Not really?" He had expected this answer and knew exactly how to get around it. "I trusted your airline to carry six of my staff – six of the best surgeons in the entire country – and you 'don't really' have a helicopter to fly me out to find them? Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea what I will do to you and your goddamn company if you don't do everything in your power to help me right now, Mr. Leitch?"

"There's no need to raise your voice—"

"Oh, I think there is." When had he gotten to his feet? He was leaning on the conference table, subconsciously putting his mouth closer to the phone, all the better to make himself heard. "There's every need. If something has happened to them—" He pictured Cristina, and his heart thumped painfully against his ribcage. "Then I will never forgive myself, and I will never forgive you either. Now I know that you have a whole fleet of aircrafts at your disposal, no doubt including one or two personal helicopters, and I am going to drive to Sea-Tac immediately and expect to board one in thirty minutes' time. Is that clear?"

Mr. Leitch sighed. "Certainly. I will call my personal pilot and have a chopper ready for you. Once again, I am so sorry, Dr. Hunt."

His apology was genuinely heartfelt and suddenly Owen felt a great shudder of emotion running through his body, forcing him back into his chair. "So am I," he muttered, putting his head in his hands and rubbing his eyes. What a day... And he knew, even as he tried to deny it, that it was undoubtedly going to get a whole lot worse.

* * *

"Cristina?"

"Mm?"

"My gum's getting hard. It's starting to make my jaw ache."

Cristina didn't answer. Despite the freezing cold that was creeping through her bones and the hunger tearing at her insides, and despite her almost overwhelming terror at the night ahead and her complete and utter exhaustion, the only thing she could think about was her husband. Did he know they were missing yet? Would she ever see him again? The thought that she wouldn't was more painful and frightening than everything else put together and there was just no room for Meredith's jaw ache amid the thunderstorm of emotions inside of her.

"We almost died today," she said quietly, thoughtfully almost. "We should have died, probably. Remember that plane crash last year? One survivor out of so many other passengers."

"Yeah, but we didn't."

Cristina turned to her. "Lexie did," she said sadly, and then felt a twinge of guilt as a wave of momentarily-forgotten grief passed across Meredith's face. "Mark might, too."

"Don't say that."

"Why? We're doctors, board-certified and everything. Mark's chances of making it through the night after a pericardiocentesis with the tube from a bottle of lotion are absolutely minimal. Arizona lost blood, and no doubt she's already growing some lethal bacteria in that wound."

"Why are you doing this?" Meredith frowned, clearly upset, but Cristina barely noticed.

"People die all the time. _All_the time. We could have died today. Owen could die tomorrow."

She pictured him as she said his name, laughing somewhere, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar and his tie gone. He turned to look at her, his blue eyes so warm – in a way she hadn't seen for so long. She closed her own eyes and clung to this image with everything she had left.

"He could get hit by a motorcycle on his morning run," she said shakily, "or be in a car crash or fall down the stairs and break his neck."

It was too painful to put images to her own words and she concentrated hard on his lovely face. On the creases around his eyes and mouth, on his long blonde lashes and his scratchy stubble, on his lips and the way they parted to show his teeth whenever she made him smile. She missed him all the time, every single day. She missed how he smelled and his hands and knowing he would always be there whenever she needed to see him. She missed being loved unconditionally, even when she didn't deserve it. She knew she was difficult to love, but she wished with all her heart that it didn't physically _hurt_him to do so.

Those words, reliving them over and over again, physically hurt her too. And worst of all, she knew she deserved them – not for the abortion but for the aftermath, the cowardice. The not making him her person part and the dawning realization that he should have been given that title and respect a long time ago.

"You're thinking about Owen?" Meredith's question interrupted her thoughts again. Her tone was one of surprise and it irritated Cristina.

"Of course I am. Did you not just hear what I said? We nearly died, Mer. Of course I'm thinking about him."

_I always am,_she didn't say.

* * *

Owen left his number with Mr. Leitch and then summoned every last scrap of energy from every cell of his body to stand up, put on his jacket and leave the room. Cristina was everywhere he looked, right there with him every time he breathed, and he was so overcome by the scent of her hair in the ominous calm of the quiet hospital corridors that he almost mowed down Dr. Bailey.

"Sorry—"

"Chief, I was just coming to find you." He looked down at her, feeling strangely like he was in a dream. "We just got a call about multiple casualties from an RTA over on Mercer Island."

"I'm sure you can handle it, Dr. Bailey," he said as he began to walk away, not having heard a word she'd said. "I really have to be somewhere."

"Hey!" She followed him as he headed towards the main entrance. "What's going on? And what happened to the team with the conjoined twins? I need some residents in the pit."

Miranda watched as his blue eyes softened and his face seemed to crumple in on itself. "The plane went down," he murmured, running a hand through his hair. "I have no idea where they are or if they're..."

For a long moment they gazed at each other, sharing both horror and disbelief at what Owen said and didn't say. _They were in a plane crash?_ Miranda Bailey was rendered speechless for one of the very few times in her life. _Why oh why did this always happen to them at Seattle Grace?_She sent a silent prayer up to whoever was listening to bring every one of her colleagues, her friends, home safely.

"I'm going to find them," Owen was saying now, and she refocused on his words. "Can you call Richard and let him know—"

But they were interrupted by the man himself, along with April, Alex and Jackson. "Ah, Dr. Bailey, Dr. Hunt," Richard said jovially. "We abandoned dinner after Yang and Grey failed to show. Do you know what's happened to them?"

Owen was looking upwards, out of the impressive glass windows of the hospital entrance and into the cold night sky, clearly unable to repeat himself again. Bailey took a deep breath as she tried to steady her own rising tide of panic. "Their plane to Boise went down. We, um... we don't know where they are."

She watched four faces process the news: frowning as if they hadn't heard correctly, followed by the slow dawn of shock and comprehension, and then outright fear and gasps for breath.

"Well, what are we all doing standing around?" Alex shouted eventually, looking at each of them expectantly. His loyalty and bravery never failed to make her proud. "We have to do something! We have to find them!"

"Dr. Hunt was just on his way—" Bailey began, but Owen cut her off.

"I'm going alone." He just couldn't deal with anyone else's grief right now, not when he had so much of his own to contemplate, and he would not let anyone distract him from finding Cristina and his colleagues. He would not lose them – he had lost enough people in his life already. And he especially would not lose his wife.

He would find her tonight or die trying.

"Karev, you're needed here. There are multiple casualties coming into the ER. And don't even try to argue," he said forcefully as Alex began to protest. "Richard, can you run the ship while I'm gone? And Callie and Julia need to know what's happened. Avery?"

"I— Yeah, of course. I'll tell them," Jackson said softly, still in shock.

"Thank you. I'll call as soon as I know anything." Owen was already heading towards the main doors, but turned back as a sudden thought occurred to him. "And can we keep it quiet for now? I don't want everyone panicking."

He didn't wait to see them all nod and was almost outside when Dr. Webber called after him: "I'm sure they'll all be okay. There's probably another explanation."

_I hope so_, Owen prayed as he ran out into the night, realizing just how freezing it was and renewing his promise to himself, and Cristina, to save her.

_I'm coming, _he thought desperately, wishing she could hear him. _I'm coming to fight for you. I'm sorry, and I love you. I love you so much._

* * *

The sounds of the night filtered through the tense atmosphere between them: wind and rustling and a bird call somewhere far away. Cristina wondered idly if there were bears in these parts.

"So, if Owen's suddenly your person," Meredith said, trying to sound conversational but failing, "How come you decided to go to Mayo anyway?"

And there it was, the million dollar question, sitting on the very top of the huge pile of unknowns that Cristina just could not find any answers to.

"I don't know," she murmured, closing her eyes again and letting her mind flood with all the memories she had been trying to suppress so she didn't have to deal with what they meant. "We slept together yesterday. And at the time, just afterwards, I thought I was leaving because it was right – for my career and for me. I thought I was saying goodbye to him."

Saying goodbye to their life together, their life which was so tangled up and hurtful, so full of holes that she had come to believe they would never manage to patch them all up. Until last night. Until now. They'd tried, for a little while with sex, which was just a temporary pin – shiny but oh so sharp. It stabbed them both with their own weakness as they tried to lie back and hide in the post-coital intimacy, where neither of them could ever quite manage to look the other in the eye.

And the counseling... Well, that had ripped apart last threads of hope and created one giant abyss into which he sunk down with the abortion and she drowned in his subsequent unfaithfulness, both of them utterly unable to understand, and yet knowing implicitly, how they had ended up there.

He would always love her, which meant he would always be hurting. And for so long she had been feeling exactly the same way. That was one of the main reasons why she wanted to leave Seattle – and him. To escape that constant pain.

But today... today everything had changed. Today she had gained a perspective on life which she had glimpsed so brutally as a nine-year-old child but had been unable to fully appreciate until now. It took her back to the OR on that godforsaken day when a madman held a gun to her head and she had truly believed she was going to die. That day when Owen had walked in and put his life before hers, and he'd decided that he wanted to marry her and she knew that they were in it forever.

She thought back to the sex and how she had expected to feel this other woman's presence in bed beside them – haunting him, or her, or them both. After Owen had broken her trust so cruelly, Cristina hadn't been sure she would ever be able to open up so intimately to him again. But she had. From the second she'd kissed him, the world fell away and it was just the two of them again – free, connected, absolved.

By sleeping with him last night, she had, in fact, forgiven him. And she knew there was so much else to talk about, so many other holes which maybe they would never fix completely, but as far as she was concerned, she was done now. Done crying. Done running away. Done giving up on them.

"So you weren't saying goodbye to him?"

Meredith once again broke into her thoughts, and for a moment, Cristina struggled to remember what she'd been saying under the gravity of her life-changing revelation.

"We've been in a freaking plane crash, Mer," she sighed, already beginning to feel the first prickles of regret that she hadn't reached this conclusion months ago. She looked straight into her friend's eyes, wondering if she had any idea what had just occurred. "Lexie's dead. And Mark… He loved her. He loved her, and he was too late. They wasted so much time apart when they could have just forgiven and forgotten and been happy together. And now because of that, all I can think about is holding my husband and telling him it's all gonna be okay because life is clearly too damn short."

"Cristina, he cheated on you!"

"Yes, I know that," she snapped back. "But have you ever, just for a second, tried to imagine it? If you and Derek were fighting, and he had gotten drunk and had a meaningless one night stand with some random woman whose name he didn't even remember. If, worst of all, you knew it was partly your fault because you pretended everything was fine when you knew it wasn't. Until one day, there is just no more room under the rug to shove everything, and he's shouting, 'You killed our baby!' in front of all your friends.

"It was one stupid mistake, and it hurts. It really, really hurts. Especially because he wanted it to hurt. But the thought of never getting to laugh together again or going home to him at night or to just knowing that he's always there – the thought of feeling how Mark is feeling right now – that hurts so much more. _So_much more.

"I would give anything right now to see him. Anything. And you don't get to judge me for that because A) if you and Derek were in this situation you would do exactly the same, and B) it's actually none of your business."

"Excuse me?" Meredith's indignation, her apparent surprise, only fuelled Cristina's fire.

"God, Meredith! He's my husband, my_ 'person_.' Don't you get it?" After six years of friendship where she had supported _"_her person's" every move – her relationships, marriage, career, family issues, miscarriage and adoption – it was about damn time she was granted the same unconditional backing in return.

"You and I are best friends, but Owen is the love of my life. You should have been supportive of me all this time we've been fighting because I needed you to help me make the right decision, and all you've done is bully me into moving across the country with you.

"Don't you think there's something wrong with that? I know you've never liked him, and you've never missed an opportunity to let either of us know that. But for once in my life, I think I am about to choose him, and it's not a moment too soon. That is, if we ever get out of these woods and I get the chance to tell him how sorry I am for everything that's happened."

There was a long silence. Her words, and their implications, filled the air around them and hung there, ugly and awkward. And while the timing was less than ideal, stranded as they were in a forest in the middle of the night, Cristina felt a little relief that she had finally vocalized everything that had been poisoning their friendship for so long.

Meredith, to her credit, looked both stunned and uncomfortable. And then, as so often happened between them, the argument was noted and put aside as quickly as it had started.

"Actually, I kinda wish Owen was here," Meredith muttered, her teeth chattering noticeably now. "At least he'd be able to light a fire. He wouldn't let the last match go out."

Her self-pity made Cristina smile slightly. "Of course he wouldn't." She pictured him once again, this time dressed in army fatigues like the very first time they had met. He was right in front of her, rubbing sticks together and grinning boyishly as flames burst to life.

She wasn't sure how long she indulged in this vision for but when she turned back to look at Meredith, she had fallen asleep.

"Mer, wake up." Cristina nudged her, feeling the bitter ache of cold crystallize her bones. Despite their differences, she did not want to be left to wait out the night alone. "Mer. Meredith!"

She got a few syllables uttered in response, but even in the darkness she could see that Meredith was deathly pale, her lips a frightening shade of blue. For only the second time that day – the first being when she lost her shoe – Cristina began to panic. She shouted her friend's name over and over, half hoping that her voice might rouse some of the others too even though she knew that they were probably succumbing to hypothermia as well.

She felt Meredith's pulse which was weak but steady, and then realized she should probably check on everyone else too. "Stay with me, Mer," she murmured as she climbed slowly to her feet, every muscle and joint protesting.

Derek was unconscious but alive, as were Arizona, Jerry and, quite miraculously, Mark. They were all freezing cold, barely breathing, but something was keeping them all there. Was it the hope of rescue?

_Come on, Owen_, Cristina thought desperately. _Please find us. We can't last much longer._

She sat back down beside Meredith, trying to get as close as possible and share whatever warmth she had. "Wake up Mer," she said softly, peering into her face and willing her to open her eyes. "There's a helicopter coming, I know it. We're gonna be rescued in no time at all. Just stay awake, that's all you have to do. Stay awake. Stay here with me, and we'll wait for it."

And Cristina waited, unsure if it was for a helicopter or a cold, endless sleep of her own.

* * *

It turned out that Mr. Leitch's pilot, a friendly guy called Mike, was ex-Air Force. Owen was forced to explain the nature of this late evening trip and spent the two-hour journey discussing the situation from a military perspective, deciding what they could do to help.

Mike sympathized – his daughter had been caught in an avalanche while skiing in Canada and he had flown out there straight away in his own chopper, desperate to find her, to do something. He also happened to be a volunteer pilot for northern Washington Search and Rescue, and he immediately offered his help to Owen.

However, the helicopter they were currently in didn't have all the necessary equipment to track people down at night, and so the flight passed quickly as they made plans to persuade the Wallowa County Sherriff's team to resume their search. "It's all bureaucracy," Mike said evenly. "It's all about paperwork and ensuring the safety of the staff. You must know what that's like, running a hospital." Owen smiled. "They have the means to search at night but clearly not the balls."

"Is that because of the weather?" Owen asked, eternally grateful to this man who had apparently been sent from heaven just at the right moment. He had also kept his mind off of the emotional side of the situation, focusing him on the facts, which was exactly what he needed.

"Maybe," Mike shrugged. "We'll have to see when we get there. But I know how you're feeling and if it were me, I would fly out in a hurricane to look for my friends, my family."

"I can't thank you enough for doing this for me," Owen said sincerely as they approached the airfield in Enterprise, Oregon.

"Like I said, I've been there. We'll find your colleagues and your wife before morning. I'm sure of it."

Owen sent up a prayer that Mike was right as they began to descend.

* * *

Sherriff Jim Garrett was not impressed to receive a call from work at almost ten o'clock at night, but quickly forgot his irritation when the nature of the emergency was revealed. He rushed to the office, arriving not five minutes later, where he greeted the two unexpected visitors with barely disguised bewilderment.

"Dr. Owen Hunt, ex-Army Major. Thank you for coming in to meet with us," Owen said, shaking the Sherriff's hand. "This is Colonel Mike Duggan, he flies for Search and Rescue in northern Washington."

The two men shook, and Owen continued: "I'm sure your officer told you over the phone why we're here. Six of my staff, including my wife, are lost somewhere in your territory and we need you to find them."

Jim sighed. He had met many relatives of missing persons over the years, all desperate for his team to do more and more – not realizing that if more could be done, they would already be doing it.

"Dr. Hunt, I assure you that if we could be out there right now, we would. I spoke to the head of our search and rescue division just before I left work this evening and he told me the pilot on duty was not comfortable flying through the night given the weather conditions. It is entirely their judgment and decision to fly at any time, and I'm afraid we just have to wait until morning."

"I didn't come all this way to be told to wait until morning," Owen said, clearly trying to contain his anger. "I have an exceptionally skilled pilot right here who is willing to fly whatever the weather. All we need is a helicopter with the correct equipment."

"I'm afraid I can't authorize that," Jim replied, keeping his cool. He knew how hard these situations were on people's relatives, had seen it hundreds of times before, and was confident he could deal with it and be back home in time for the late night news.

"Then who can?"

Owen's steely blue gaze caught him off guard.

"Well... I mean, if anyone could, it would be me. But in this situation, I can't."

"And why not?"

Jim Garrett was never one to panic, but then again he had never been in this situation before: confronted by a former Army surgeon and Air Force pilot who were clearly in no mood for a discussion. He recognized resolve – he had a lot of it himself and always favored officers who displayed it too – and suddenly realized that this was a fight he was going to lose. He didn't know if it was the grief in Dr. Hunt's eyes which made him seem so formidable, but he seemed to have grown two feet in height, filling the reception area of the station as he stared Jim down.

"There's paperwork," he said lamely, and the two men seemed to smile slightly. "I can't just loan an aircraft to a pilot I've never met before. What if there is another incident and I need to scramble a team with no helicopter?"

"In this weather?" Owen scoffed. "I thought it was too poor to fly in? And I refuse to believe that you have only one chopper at your disposal."

"Well—"

"Look, we're wasting time arguing," Mike said calmly. "I have all my paperwork with me, I always carry it in my cockpit. You can authorize this, Sir, and you will, because if it was your wife lost out in the woods, I have no doubts that you would throw every pilot in this country into finding her."

And that was that. Jim turned and headed into his office, the two men following behind him, wondering what the hell had just happened and what would become of him when everyone else found out.

"You're doing the right thing," Mike told him quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"I hope so. In all my forty years in the police force, I'm not sure I've ever put my neck on the line for someone like this."

He thought of his wife, his kids, imagining them stranded in a cold, dark forest. Then he opened a filing cabinet and pulled out the paperwork.

* * *

_Think warm thoughts. You're not stranded in the middle of the freaking woods and freezing to death. No, you're stranded on a deserted island and _wishing_ you were freezing to death because it's super hot. And you're not thirsty or starving. In fact, you're full. Stuffed with food_.

Cristina's stomach growled in contradiction.

"This isn't working," Cristina muttered to herself. Whoever came up with this "mind over matter" crap clearly hadn't had to survive hypothermia. Or, if they did, they were some super Zen monk that could bend a fork with his mind. Cristina, on the other hand, felt colder than she did before – if that were even possible.

Leave it to her to survive a plane crash only to die in the middle of the woods. Cristina and nature never did mix. And now she had a legitimate case for refusing to go camping with Owen.

_Owen_.

No matter how cold, how hungry, how thirsty she was. Her thoughts kept coming back to Owen. He was the anchor of thought she clung onto for the strength to fight off the siren's call of fatigue and unconsciousness.

Cristina closed her eyes and gently traced a finger across her shivering lips. It seemed like an eternity ago that his teeth had gently nibbled on her bottom lip then soothed it with a soft kiss. Or tickled her cheek with his ever-present five o'clock shadow as he tucked her into his embrace. Or traced idle patterns across her back as they remained lost in their own thoughts, putting off the moment they'd have to remember the still-broken shards of their marriage.

Had she really been ready to say goodbye to him?

Meredith's question came back to haunt her. On some level, maybe she had been. In that moment, it had felt easier to give up on continuing to try and to just start anew at Mayo. It had always been her gut instinct – to cut her losses and run when the going got tough. She ran from Colin Marlowe when he had wanted things to get serious. She had nearly run from Burke on their wedding day. But with Owen, she had stayed.

Owen was different. She had known that from the first time she'd laid eyes on him: when he'd jumped from the back of the ambulance, having trached a man with a pen, saving his life – all the while having a gaping thigh wound. Then, when he'd stapled his own leg – without anesthesia – she'd nearly jumped his bones right there. And if she had grown up to be the girly girl her mother had hoped, she would've bought into the cliché of falling for the man who literally swept her off her feet.

But she wasn't the type to believe in fairytale happily ever afters. And she certainly was no Disney princess. She was messy, often insensitive, and extremely career-driven.

Yet he loved her for all her flaws, admired her for her strengths, and forgave her for her mistakes. How could she not do the same for him? Especially when neither of them were blameless.

There were still issues that needed to be resolved. And Cristina held no illusions that it would be an easy road. Goodness knows, they had tried already. But he hadn't had enough time to grieve for the future he'd dreamt about for so long. And she hadn't been ready to face his sorrows and bear them. Maybe they would be ready now. Now that Cristina was at the proverbial fork in the road: to go left – and leave behind not only the pain but the chance at a life together – or to go right – and stay with the man who showed her what it meant to love and be truly loved in return.

How could she leave that behind?

The answer was simple. She couldn't.

* * *

Owen looked out through the windows of the helicopter, willing his eyes to see through the pitch black darkness of the night. It didn't help that the woods were dense and the ground was shrouded under the foliage. Adrenaline pulsed through his body, causing his heartbeat to echo loudly in his ears, as he searched for signs of his team of surgeons – but most importantly, his wife.

He would carry the loss of his team with him – of that, he was sure. But he could not help but selfishly hope that if only _one_were to survive, that it would be Cristina.

_Fight for her_. Teddy's parting words taunted him.

Would he get the chance to fight for her? No matter how desperately he attempted to remain hopeful, there was still the persistent fear that there would be no more waking up beside Cristina every morning, no more holding her small frame within his larger one, no more proving to her just how much they belonged together.

Owen had long accepted this truth: he could not imagine a future without her.

She was the love of his life. And though it often hurt to love her, she also had the unique ability to make him experience the kind of joy he'd never felt before. The type of happiness he thought he'd lost long ago – along with the part of his soul – in the blood-soaked sands of Iraq.

"Do you see anything?" Owen asked Mike, already anticipating the answer.

"No. "

_Where are you?_ Owen asked silently, as if he expected a response. _Please be okay. I don't know what I'd do without you._

* * *

Cristina startled awake, having nodded off momentarily.

_Is there an earthquake?_She thought to herself sleepily. Yet, the ground remained still. No, what Cristina perceived as an earthquake was in fact the blades of the helicopter slicing and echoing through the night sky above the canopy of the treetops.

The debris of the plane crash had cleared a haphazard line of sight with an imaginary arrow pointed toward the place where Cristina and the others camped.

Cristina tried to draw attention to where the plane crash survivors lay, but her vocal cords betrayed her. All that came out was a hoarse whisper – her throat parched from lack of water.

A last-ditch surge of energy raced through her veins as she clasped the previously defunct flare gun in her hand.

_Work, damn it_, she beseeched the inanimate object. The safety latch gave under her urgent fingers – as if it sensed her desperation. A blinding red light shot toward the heavens, and Cristina shielded her eyes from the intensity of its brightness – her eyes having long adjusted to the stark black of darkness.

Cristina nearly fainted in relief as the sound of the helicopter grew louder, signaling its return trajectory closer to their location. Groaning in effort, she rose to her feet and waved her uninjured arm above her head, trying to attract the attention of the search and rescue team.

The piercing beacon of white light wove back and forth as it sought her out. Finally, she was basked within its glow. They were found. Halle-freakin'-lujah.

She was one step closer to going home.

* * *

"There!" Owen shouted, pointing at the origin point of the flare. "Go back!"

Mike maneuvered the helicopter and scanned the area for a large enough clearing to land. "Hang on," he advised as he worked at setting down the helicopter safely.

Owen's heart had skipped a beat when the searchlight had caught Cristina's lone figure within its sights. She was alive. And based on the fact that she was still awake and capable of flagging them down, she was hopefully unharmed. An overwhelming sense of relief washed over him.

He felt like he could breathe again.

As the helicopter descended, Owen edged closer to the door – his body poised to leap out at the earliest second possible.

He could see Cristina limping toward the helicopter, waving her free arm. Owen noted her other arm being cradled within a makeshift sling, and his heart wrenched at the visual proof that she had been hurt. Yes, he knew it was inevitable. Plane crashes were unmerciful to its victims. But rationality and reason could not temper his sense of guilt over her pain – over the fact he hadn't been there for her.

If only he'd gone with her. If only they'd taken an earlier flight. If only, if only.

He couldn't dwell on those regrets now. There would be time enough to sift through the instances where a different decision could have been made. Where there could have been joy instead of sorrow or growth instead of regression.

The helicopter was now hovered only a few feet above the ground, and Owen could wait no longer. Propelling himself out of the doors, he ran toward Cristina.

The chill of the wind blew against his back as the helicopter landed behind him. He barely felt it. All his senses were zeroed in on reaching his wife and finally having her in his arms again.

* * *

Cristina shielded her face from the tornado swirls of leaves and Douglas fir needles. Through her partial vantage point, however, she swore she could see Owen coming towards her.

_Am I hallucinating?_

For the briefest moment, she believed in that terrifying possibility. That maybe her mind was playing a cruel trick on her, that there was no helicopter. That there was no escaping. Cristina choked back a sob. She didn't know if she could hang on much longer.

But then familiar, strong arms surrounded her, blocking the gusts of debris.

"Owen?" she whispered.

"Yes, it's me. I'm here, Cristina. I'm here."

She was home.

_We defy the laws of nature by sheer willpower. We refuse to let our limitations dictate what we can accomplish, whether it's surviving a plane crash or repairing a broken marriage. We get creative, and we adapt. That is our strength – as individuals... But we cannot be expected to be strong all the time. And maybe that's part of the_ real _reason why we are made to be so weak. It is so that we are drawn to depending on one other, to know that someone will catch us when we can no longer stand on our own._


	2. You're My Home

**Season 8.5 Episode 2: "You're My Home" by lovemesomeowen**

_Home. The thoughts about it are as varied as the people who think them. So is a man's home his castle? Or is anyplace he hangs his hat his home? Most agree that there's no place sweeter because there's no place like home. But can we ever really go home again?_

Cristina watched the blades of the helicopter begin to whirl as it prepared to take off. This was the third and final medical chopper. Mark had been evacuated on the first flight, followed minutes later by Arizona and Jerry on the second. Now, at last, it was Meredith and Derek's turn. The noise was deafening and the blowing intense as it lifted effortlessly and flew away. Cristina leaned her head back on the trunk of the tree where she sat, exhausted. Owen was visible in the distance, still talking to the teams working the accident scene. He refused to leave the site until Lexie's body had been recovered and was gesturing intensely at the chief investigator.

Closing her eyes, Cristina thought back to her all-too-brief reunion with Owen. She had known in her gut that he would come for her, for all of them. And he had come. But their joy and relief at being together again had lasted mere seconds before reality came crashing down on them.

"_Owen?" she had whispered._

"Yes, it's me. I'm here, Cristina. I'm here."

_They clung to each other desperately for a few moments as Owen held her tightly to him, kissing her forehead tenderly, then her lips, tears streaming down his face as her stroked her hair. Cristina winced as her shoulder throbbed and Owen pulled back at once._

"_You're hurt."_

"_No. I'm fine. I just dislocated my shoulder. Mark put it back in place. It's just sore. But everyone else is in really bad shape._

"_Mark is barely hanging on…cardiac tamponade. He was peri-arrest when we realized and Meredith did a pericardiocentesis using the tube from a lotion bottle. We did our best to sterilize it but he's gonna need loading up with antibiotics ASAP. I checked on him a while ago and he was tachycardic, tachypneic and peripherally shut down – I think he's heading into shock. _

"_Jerry – that's the pilot – reported paraplegia immediately after the crash. He's trapped in his cabin, now unconscious but he seems okay, his pulse was strong. Arizona is in the fuselage with Mark…"_

"_Cristina," Owen interrupted. It was killing him to see her that way, so clinical after all she'd been through, after he'd almost lost her- her pain masked by her professionalism. Their eyes met and he realized that this was what she needed to be able to cope with what had happened, the only way for her to get through it. _

"_I'm sorry," he said. "Go on."_

_Cristina continued, a look of determined concentration on her face. "Arizona has an open tib-fib fracture. She tied a tourniquet and we splinted it, but she looks pretty sick. She felt hot when I checked on her. Pulse rate of around a hundred and respiratory rate over twenty, so I'm pretty sure she's becoming septic. _

"_Derek has deep lacerations to his left forearm and hand. We tried to wash out the wound and then pinned and bandaged it, but he passed out a while ago and if it was anyone else's hand but Derek Shepherd's, we'd be talking amputation. And Meredith – I think she had a slight concussion and there's a huge gash on her thigh but she seemed fine. Now she's passed out from hypothermia. She's freezing cold, barely a pulse."_

_Owen nodded, his mind already springing into action. "And what about Lexie?"_

_Cristina hesitated and then shook her head. _

"_She… didn't make it," Cristina said, her voice faltering. "She was pinned under the wreckage. There was nothing to be done. Mark was with her when she died."_

"_Damn it." Owen sighed. His sadness was visible, but he shook it off for the moment, knowing what was at stake. "Okay," he said, surveying the area, "let's get going. We're not losing anyone else tonight. Are you feeling well enough to help?" Cristina nodded. _

_Within minutes the evacuation process was already moving along briskly. Cristina was introduced to Mike, who had already radioed their coordinates, and they were told that medical helicopters would arrive soon. Owen was in full-on chief mode as he made one phone call after another. Cristina caught only bits and pieces as she worked to prepare her friends for evacuation._

"_Yes, that's right. Thank you for taking the lead until I can get back, Richard. You'll talk to Callie and Julia personally?"_

_And later, "Hey, it's me. You've heard what's happened? Yes, I've got her. Dislocated her shoulder but she's fine otherwise. I need a favor. Mark's bad. I need you to operate on him. Richard's got the details. I've reinstated your privileges temporarily …thanks…we'll be back as soon as I get things squared away here."_

"Cristina!" Owen's voice brought her back to the present. He reached down and touched her face gently. "Try to stay awake, okay? We're getting out of here. Mike's firing up the chopper now."

Seeing her look of apprehension, he continued, "I know the last place you want to be right now is back in the air, but it's the only way. We've got to do it. I'm with you."

Extending his hand, he helped her up and they walked to the waiting helicopter, arms around each other. Cristina took a deep breath and forced herself to get on board. As they flew away, she took one final look at the debris and devastation they were leaving behind. The sun was just coming up over the horizon.

* * *

Richard Webber strode toward the conference room, deep in thought, preparing for one of the most important meetings of his career. Much had already been lost and much more still lay hanging in the balance. Today his team needed to pull together once again and put aside their personal feelings in order to save the lives of their colleagues and friends.

He opened the door to find a full house, residents on one side of the room and attendings on the other. Karev, Kepner and Avery looked young and shaken while Callie Torres seemed to have aged a year overnight, looking distraught. She was flanked by Altman and Bailey as other faces, some familiar and others not, rounded out the ensemble.

"Thank you all for coming. As you know, Chief Hunt has asked me to coordinate things from this end until he is able to return from the crash site. Three medical helicopters are currently en route to Seattle Grace Mercy West, carrying five patients we need to treat immediately. Dr. Yang will be arriving later with Dr. Hunt who has provided me with basic information which I will pass on to you, but in essence we need to treat this situation as an incoming trauma and assume nothing about our victims. We don't want to miss anything.

"Dr. Sloan will be arriving first, within the half hour. Dr. Altman will be performing his surgery assisted by Dr. Karev.

"Dr. Robbins and the plane's pilot are on the second flight. I'll be taking point for Dr. Robbins assisted by Dr. Kepner. At some point an orthopedic surgeon will be needed. I've contacted Dr. Jacobson since Dr. Torres is unavailable due to the personal circumstances. Dr. Nelson," he nodded in the direction of Jim Nelson, also known around SGMW as Shadow Shepherd, "will operate on the pilot, Jerry, assisted by Dr. Bailey as needed. Dr. Bailey, you will also assess Dr. Meredith Grey."

Acknowledging the visiting surgeon with a nod, he continued, "We've called in Dr. Anders to operate on Dr. Shepherd assisted by Dr. Avery. Dr. Torres has agreed to consult given the catastrophic nature of the injury."

He took a moment to gather himself. "Finally," he said softly, his voice breaking, "I'm so sorry to tell you…we lost Lexie today." He paused again to give them time to absorb the news, their surprise quickly turning to shock and then to horror. "She was trapped underneath the wreckage. Her injuries were so severe that nothing could be done. I'm told that Mark was with her when she died."

A hush fell across the room, the silence broken only by Callie's quiet sobs as Miranda tried in vain to comfort her while barely holding back tears of her own. Alex turned ashen and looked as if he might be sick. April reached out and grabbed Jackson's hand as he stared ahead in stunned disbelief.

"Dr. Hunt and I both realize what we are asking you to do. You are, quite understandably, filled with both grief and anxiety, as are we. But our colleagues are gravely injured, two critically and another faced with the possibility of career-ending disability. It is our responsibility to set aside our personal feelings at this moment and do everything in our power to help them. Dr. Hunt will be back as soon as he can. In the meantime, see me with any questions. Take a few minutes to compose yourselves, but then we must begin. They're counting on us. Thank you."

* * *

"Mike, I don't know how to thank you," Owen said, shaking the pilot's hand.

They were standing on the helipad at Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital.

"Not necessary, Owen. Glad to help," he replied, smiling at Cristina. "Seeing the two of you together is all the thanks I need."

"Cristina's alive because of you. I'm in your debt. If you ever need anything…anything at all…call me."

"Understood."

They stepped back as he climbed into the helicopter and then took off, quickly becoming nothing more but a tiny dot in the morning sky.

As they turned to go, Owen led Cristina to the bench on the roof, saying, "Let's stay here a minute, okay?"

Cristina looked puzzled as they sat down. "Don't you need to get inside?"

"Not really. Everyone's in capable hands. They can get along without me a little while longer. You are my top priority right now." He put his arm around her, careful to not squeeze her injured shoulder. She snuggled into his embrace. "Besides, we've hardly had a moment to ourselves and I'm not ready to let you go just yet."

As the words escaped his lips he realized the unspoken subtext. He had Cristina back, safe in his arms, and decided to savor the moment, regardless of what the future held.

They sat quietly for several minutes, content just to hold each other, each lost in thought.

"Come with me," she said, suddenly.

"What? What do you mean?" he asked, startled. "Of course I'll come with you. I'm examining you myself."

She looked up at him, shaking her head. "Come with me to Mayo."

Owen's expression was unreadable as he thought carefully how to answer her.

"Cristina," he said finally, "there is nothing I would rather do than come with you to Mayo. Nothing. But…"

"But what?" she demanded.

"But you've been through a terrible ordeal and the last thing I want you to do is make an impulsive decision that you'll regret later."

She sat up now, frustration taking over. "Stop. First of all, I am so sick of people saying that us getting married was impulsive. That's crap. You said it yourself. We got married because we loved each other and wanted a life together. I was always going to marry you. It was just a question of when. People need to mind their own damn business.

"As for regret," she continued, "all I felt in that godforsaken forest was regret. Regret that I might not ever see you again. Regret that I walked away from you. Regret that the last words I said to you were 'I'm leaving' instead of the words I should have said: I love you. I forgive you. I'm sorry. You're my person. Come with me.

"I am done running away from you, running away from us. You were right the other night. We haven't fixed anything. But we can, together. Come with me," she implored him. "All you have to do is say 'yes'."

He looked at her a long moment. "You really love me?"

She nodded.

"I'm your person?"

She nodded again. "You're my freakin' person!"

He laughed in spite of himself and then took her face in his hands, overwhelmed with love for her, wanting to make the right choice for them both.

"Yes," he said, solemnly. "Yes!"

She smiled in relief and brought her lips to his, kissing him first tenderly and then more urgently as the world melted away. He was coming with her. She could breathe again.

* * *

Cristina shifted uncomfortably on the exam table. _Stupid hospital gown._ She was chilled, hungry and so tired that she felt nauseated. Still, the irony of the situation was not lost on her. Once again she found herself being examined by Owen after an accident. Was it the same room? She couldn't be certain in her current mental fog, but she thought maybe it was.

She recalled the night they had met and remembered how she had pulled away from his kiss, saying she didn't even know him. But he had gotten under her skin that night and something was set in motion…something that they could neither stop nor control. It was like a force of nature and it still took her breath away.

"You know, Dr. Hunt," she said, finally, "it's probably not appropriate for you to be examining your own wife. Conflict of interest."

"No," he agreed, carefully manipulating her injured shoulder. "It's not, which is why this is off the record. Your official examination will come when I'm done."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I'm not."

"Fine," she sighed, too weary to press the issue. "Hey! Who were you talking to before, at the crash site? Who needs privileges temporarily restored? Did I miss something?"

"Actually," he said evenly, "you missed a lot. I fired Teddy."

"You _what_? I thought you two were friends again!"

"We are, which is why I had to fire her. She got an offer to be the Chief of MED COM…Army Medical Command. She'll be the Head of Operations for the United States and Europe."

"Why didn't she just resign and take the new job?"

"She was going to turn down the job out of loyalty to me. I couldn't let her do it. It's an amazing opportunity and she needs a fresh start. Being here only reminds her of Henry. So I fired her."

Cristina smiled. "You're a good friend. She gets that, right?"

"She does. She told me to fight for you, that I couldn't lose you. She was right."

"She was. Good call. So, tell me, am I going to live?" she asked, yawning.

"You are. I'm going to have to go soon and be the Chief, but I'll wait until my replacement arrives." He kissed her again just because he could, stroking her hair and caressing her face as he did so, his eyes burning a hole right through her. She gave a little shiver.

Moments later, there was a knock on the door. Miranda Bailey walked into the room and surveyed the situation, silently giving her approval. Apparently yet another near-death experience had finally knocked some sense into their stubborn heads.

Professional once again, Owen said, "Thanks so much for coming, Dr. Bailey. How are things?"

"Jerry is stable, but he'll never walk again. As for Meredith, she's going to be fine. Thankfully there shouldn't be any lasting affects from the hypothermia. She's sleeping now."

Owen turned to Cristina. "I should go. I need to check on the others. Assuming Dr. Bailey gives you the all-clear, we'll consider your initial treatment finished. Hold on, I'll be right back." He returned moments later and handed Cristina a pager. "In case you need me. I'll see you soon." He gave her a quick kiss and left.

Cristina Yang and Miranda Bailey looked at each other for a long moment.

Finally, Miranda said, "I don't need to know the gory details. I'm just glad you're working things out. Life is short. Speaking of which, you have got to stop doing this, Yang. You and all your little friends are going to be the death of me. Excitement is overrated. Let's get started. Let me take a look at that shoulder."

* * *

"Callie!"

Calliope Torres looked up with a start and saw Cristina walking towards her. She moved slowly, her left arm in a sling, a bottle of water in her right hand. Callie jumped up immediately to greet her.

"Cristina! Oh my god! Look at you…come here!" Cristina Yang didn't do hugs but at that moment Callie couldn't care less. She wrapped her friend in her arms, the tears which had been barely held at bay rising quickly to the surface. "Come on, sit down."

Cristina lowered herself gingerly onto the chair and looked around the nearly-empty waiting room. "Are you here all by yourself? Where's Julia?"

"She went to make some phone calls. She's clearing her schedule for the week."

"Is there any word yet on Mark or Arizona?"

"No. Nothing. That's not good."

"Not necessarily," Cristina replied. "Don't read too much into it. They'll update you when they can."

But she knew, of course, that in all likelihood Callie was right and the lack of information meant that that neither patient was doing well.

"What?" she said, as Callie looked at her anxiously.

Callie hesitated then plunged ahead, her need for information overwhelming her.

"I don't know if I should ask you this, but you're the only one from the accident who's actually awake so far and nobody will tell me anything so I was just wondering if you could …maybe…tell me something…anything…about what happened out there? Lexie's dead and I'm just so scared…"

Cristina reached over and touched Callie's arm, the gesture so unexpected that Callie was startled into pausing.

Cristina looked her squarely in the eye and asked, "What do you want to know?"

Callie's eyes welled up again. "Do you think they're going to be okay?"

Cristina sighed, wishing Callie had started with anything but that. She considered where to begin and said, "Arizona was screaming her head off. I may have told her to 'shut up'." Seeing Callie's expression she added, "I was in shock!

"But I probably would have told her to 'shut up' anyway," Cristina admitted, shrugging her good shoulder. "We thought Mark was fine at first. He was up and walking around. He popped my shoulder back into place. We couldn't find Lexie or Derek. They were in the back of the plane. The part that broke away. We found Lexie. I knew right away things were bad but Mark…"

"Was in denial," Callie finished softly. "Yeah, he does that a lot." _I'm in denial, too._

"So we sent Meredith to find Derek and Mark sent me for supplies to help Lexie. I knew they weren't going to help but we had to try, you know?"

Callie nodded, tears streaming down her face.

Cristina went on, "When I got back to the plane, I saw why Arizona was in such excruciating pain. Her femur was badly broken and totally exposed. We were literally looking at it."

Callie closed her eyes and shook her head, willing the image of Arizona out of her mind. She hated the thought of her wife being in so much agony.

"I offered to splint it for her but she said she'd do it herself. She was more concerned with Jerry, our pilot. She made me go and take care of him. She insisted. It was really important to her. I managed to get him braced." Cristina paused, remembering Jerry's panic, his fear when he couldn't feel his legs, and her own response of sticking the pen into his thigh. Not one of her finest moments. "Arizona's very compassionate."

"I found Meredith on the way back and told her she needed to go to Lexie but we were too late," she said, simply. "Lexie was gone."

"Mark is going to be destroyed," Callie said. _I would be destroyed._

"He was off by himself. We'd found Derek by then and we were all back at the plane but Mark was just staring into space, gutted." _Would Callie soon suffer the same fate?_

Cristina rubbed her temple with her good hand and then took a few sips of water, trying to find the words to go on. _Stick to the facts. Facts had helped Teddy. Maybe they would help Callie, too. _

"I was yelling at him. Telling he had to help. That we all had to help. He was completely unresponsive and we realized he had tamponade. So the honest answer is I don't know if he's going to be okay. I don't. I'm sorry." _I'm so, so sorry._

"And Arizona?" Callie asked, desperation in her eyes.

Cristina answered carefully. "I don't know about her either. She was tachycardic and had a high respiratory rate. She was beginning to burn up. We didn't have anything to wash out the wound. What did they tell you before her surgery? Who did they find to operate on her leg?"

Callie broke down again, trying to talk between gasps for air. "They couldn't… operate… on the leg yet. They could only do a… temporary reduction. She was coughing up blood and a CT confirmed internal bleeding. Webber's in there right now trying to figure it out!"

"Oh crap." The words slipped out before Cristina could stop them. One or the other would have been bad enough, but both internal bleeding and probable sepsis?

Cristina was at a loss. She reached over and squeezed Callie's hand, not letting go, not knowing what else to say, as Callie's body convulsed with sobs.

* * *

Owen stared out the conference room window and wondered how, once again, he had found himself in hell. On the surface the lush green forest of Oregon had little in common with the desert sands of Iraq, yet Owen had lost colleagues and friends in both. And it wasn't over yet. Mark and Arizona were still in surgery. Derek was in recovery but his prognosis was far from certain. He could still lose his hand, the others their lives. The department was in shambles. It was too much. Thank god he had a second chance with Cristina. That was the only good thing to come out of this tragedy.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts and, turning around, he said, "Come in!"

It was Dr. Webber, clearly just out of surgery, his scrub cap in his hand.

The two chiefs looked at each other.

"Tell me," Owen said.

"I had to remove her spleen," Richard said. "We've stopped the bleeding but she lost a lot of blood. Too much. And the lab confirmed sepsis. Between the two, even with fluids and pressors her blood pressure is far too low. She's critical. I'm not hopeful. I spoke to Callie."

Owen nodded, his eyes full of sorrow. "Thank you, Richard. You did what you could. We'll have to wait and see. Mark's still in surgery. His seems to be going a bit better."

The two of them leaned against the table, silent and exhausted, spent.

"Cristina asked me to go to Mayo with her."

"That's great!" The older man's face brightened. "That's the best news I've heard all day."

"I don't know if I can go, at least not yet. Everything here has gone to hell and…"

"Now you listen to me, Hunt," Richard said firmly. "This place got along fine before you got here. It'll get along fine again after you leave. It's just a job. So maybe you stay for a bit until things settle down. Things will be better in a few weeks. These things pass. The important thing is that you are with your wife. That's a lesson I learned too late and it's the greatest regret of my life. Don't make my mistake."

Owen knew he was right. "No, sir."

There was another knock on the door and Owen's assistant stepped inside the room.

"Dr. Hunt, ETA is in fifteen minutes," she said quietly.

"Thank you."

She left, closing the door behind her.

Richard looked at Owen, eyebrows raised. "What's that about?"

Owen ran his hands through his hair and then stood up, gathering his strength.

"Lexie Grey's body is about to arrive. I want to be there to meet her," Owen said sadly.

"May I come with you?"

Owen shot him a grateful look. "Of course. Let's go."

* * *

Cristina woke up with a jolt. She had forgotten where she was and struggled to get her bearings. For a few merciful seconds she thought it had all been a bad dream and then, seeing Meredith sleeping on the hospital bed in front of her, the truth came rushing back with a vengeance.

She had stayed with Callie a long time. Long enough to hear Richard Webber's devastating prognosis and witness Callie's life shatter before her eyes. When Callie had gone to Arizona's bedside, Cristina had decided it was time to check on Meredith.

She must have drifted off. Struggling to sit up, her bad shoulder useless, she jumped again, realizing there was a third person in the room.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to check on you and the nurses said you were in here," Teddy said.

"It's fine. I…I'm fine. I'm not quite awake, that's all. Sit down. How's Mark?"

"Not great," Teddy replied. "We were in there a long time. Longer than I wanted to be. He's still critical. It really could go either way."

Cristina's head dropped, the bad news bearing down on her like a heavy weight. Her mind went immediately back to Callie. Arizona's chances were very poor. What if Mark didn't make it, either? _Can she survive the loss of her wife and her best friend - the father of her child? How much should one person have to bear?_

Cristina thought about Owen and all of the colleagues and friends he had lost in the army. She thought of her father …of Burke …how she had almost lost her own life, twice, and, by extension, had nearly lost Owen as well. _How could I have even considered walking away from him?_ _He's the best thing that ever happened to me and I nearly threw him away. _She finally had to push the thoughts away before they consumed her and silently vowed to do better from now on, knowing that everything she held dear could be gone in an instant.

"Cristina?"

She had forgotten Teddy was even there. She looked up again. "I…sorry…it's just too much, you know?"

"I do know," Teddy said and Cristina saw the memory of Henry reflected in her eyes, etched into her being.

"I hear you've got a new job," Cristina said, deciding to change the subject. "Good for you."

"Thanks. It's time to start again. Owen saw that even when I couldn't."

"Owen and I are starting again, too…"

Teddy smiled. "That's good. That's really good. I'm so glad. You two belong together."

"So when do you leave?" Cristina asked.

"Not for a few weeks. I report at the beginning of the month. It's going to take some time to wrap things up here and I want to be available to follow up with Mark. Cross your fingers." She paused and then added, "You're a great surgeon, Cristina. I'm proud of you."

The two women looked at each other, silently acknowledging their complicated history. In the end, after all of the highs and the lows, Teddy had turned out be a good teacher to her exceptionally capable protégée.

"Thank you. A lot of who I've become is because of you," Cristina admitted.

Teddy stood to go. "You and Owen take care of each other, okay?"

"We will," Cristina replied, watching Teddy leave and then pause, talking to someone in the hall.

Moments later, Alex Karev's head appeared in the doorway.

He and Cristina exchanged glances and she patted the chair beside her. They sat in silence for a long time, watching Meredith's chest rise and fall, neither saying a word.

Finally, Alex said, "Dr. Robbins probably isn't going to make it."

"I know," Cristina said.

"I should have been on that plane. Not her."

"Stop it. I mean it, Alex. Stop. It's not your fault. It's not anybody's fault."

"Sloan's 50/50 at best. Lexie _died_." He looked sad and defeated, as he tallied the people he had lost, including his parents and his brother and sister. "O'Malley died. Izzie's long gone. You and Mer are all I have left. You can't die on me. You can't. You get that, right?"

"I'm doing my best. I don't want me to die, either," Cristina replied, touched.

She was a little bit shocked to realize that she felt the same way about him…about all of them. Alex, Meredith and Derek and Zola, Callie and Sofia…and Mark, Dr. Bailey and Chief Webber. Even Pretty Eyes and Kepner. These people were her family.

"I don't know if I can go to Hopkins now. You think Hunt would still give me the Peds Fellowship here?"

"I bet there's a good chance he would. He said he'd come to Mayo with me."

"Told you so!" Alex smirked. "So whipped."

She made a face then continued, "I don't know if I still want to go. Think I could still get the Cardio Fellowship here?"

Alex smiled. "I bet there's a good chance you could.

He took her hand and for the second time that day, Cristina Yang didn't pull away.

* * *

Owen practically sprinted down the halls of Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital, having received a one-word page from Cristina: _Vent._

He worked his way through the labyrinth of corridors and stairways and finally arrived, opening the door to find her standing there with her eyes closed, the gusts of air blowing her hair.

"Hey…are you okay?" he asked, approached her quickly, concern in his eyes.

"I'm fine," she said, surprised. "Well, as fine as I'm going to get right now. I didn't mean to worry you. I just wanted to see you."

He took her in his arms and wrapped her in that enormous embrace she loved so much.

"Hell of a day," he said wearily. _God, how he had missed these moments. Missed his wife._

"Yeah…any changes?"

"Not the kind you're hoping for," he replied. "Arizona is worse, if that's possible. Sloan's the same. Too soon to tell about Shepherd. I spoke to Thatcher Grey. I wanted to wait for Meredith but I finally decided I couldn't. Too much time had passed already. Awful. It never gets any easier to tell a parent his child is dead. He's devastated, of course." Owen pulled back and gestured, "Let's sit down. I need to talk with you."

Cristina sat leaning against Owen, his arm around her. "What's up?" she asked. "Talk to me."

He sighed. "You're going to have to go on to Mayo without me. I can't leave yet. I just can't. With a little luck I should be able to join you in a few weeks."

"I'm still amazed you'd do that, you know," she said. "Pick up your whole life, leave your job and move halfway across the country with me on a moment's notice."

He shrugged. "I love you. I want to be with you. Nothing else is as important to me as you are. I _like_ being Chief but I don't _need_ to be Chief. I'm a trauma surgeon. A good one. I won't have any trouble finding work. It's just a job. I'm not concerned in the least."

"You _are_ good. You're _excellent_. When you became Head of Trauma the ER got its Level One status back," she mused. "You could have gone anywhere after Iraq. Why did you come here?"

"You really need to ask?" He looked at her intently, eyes blazing. "I came for you," he said simply. "I don't know if I fully realized it at the time, but I came for you. It's always been you, Cristina, from the moment I met you. It's always been you and it always will be."

"I'm difficult sometimes," she admitted. "I know I'm not always easy to love. And I've hurt you so badly. I'm so sorry. I'm going to do better."

"I've hurt you, too. And I'm not always easy to love, either. Nobody is. But you're worth the trouble…and I hope I am, too, because we've given each other a lot of happiness, too. There's a lot that's good. We'll both do better. We'll figure things out. We have to because I'm miserable without you. I need _us_."

"Me, too," she said. "I told Meredith that you're my person," she added.

"_Really_?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "How'd that go over?"

"About as well as you'd expect," she said, laughing. "She doesn't get it, but …whatever. _We_ get us and that's what matters. Meredith will just have to learn to deal with it.

"So I've been thinking," she went on, "I don't think I want to go to Mayo after all."

"No? Why not?"

Cristina tried to find words that would truly express the seismic shift in her thinking that had evolved over the last several hours.

"Ever since my dad died, all I've wanted to do was fix hearts…to save other people even though I couldn't save him. I can't remember a time when I didn't want to be a cardio-thoracic surgeon. I still want that…to be the best surgeon of my generation.

"But you're right. Mayo is just a job. There are plenty of places where I can have a great fellowship, including this hospital. It's a world-class facility with an excellent program and the people I care about are here. Meredith, Alex, Callie…they're my family…and I want to stay here with them."

"Will they be here?" Owen countered. "They have offers…"

"Please. Derek will be lucky to keep that hand, let alone regain mobility. If he ever operates again, it'll be a miracle. He's not going to be running the Neuro Department at Harvard. He probably won't even be able to get another job and Meredith won't go without him. Plus she's lost Lexie. I don't think they're going anywhere.

"Callie's life is completely shattered. Arizona's going to die." She paused. It was terrible to actually say the words out loud. "And if Mark dies, too…even if he doesn't…Callie basically has no one. Her family has disowned her. She's losing her wife and maybe her best friend…Sofia's father! She needs us. As for Alex, I have it on good authority he's going to be asking you for the Peds Fellowship."

"Cristina, I'll support whatever decision you make on this. I really don't care. If you're happy, I'm happy. I just don't want you to decide to stay and regret it later."

"They'll be other opportunities later if we want them," she said. "This isn't necessarily forever. But it's the right thing to do now. I'd really like the Cardio Fellowship…"

"But…" he said.

She smiled at how well he knew her. "There would be a few conditions, of course."

"Now there are conditions?" he asked wryly. "What do you want?"

"Well, with Dr. Altman leaving you're going to need a new Head of Cardio and I need a teacher, so I have a short list of outstanding candidates who are ripe for poaching. Also, Mayo was going to give me a lab so I want research dollars and lots of them."

"Anything else?"

"Fellowships for Mer and Alex and a position for Derek as long as he needs it."

Given that he had a slate of positions to fill, Owen figured this was turning out to be a win-win scenario. He needed a cardio person anyway and he could figure out something for Shepherd. The research dollars might be tricky but he was a resourceful man.

"I can make that happen," he said. "But I have a condition of my own. When things settle down, you and I are taking a vacation…just the two of us…far away from this hospital and everything that goes with it. Two weeks, no communication with work."

"No camping…" she said firmly.

"No camping," he agreed.

"Then you have yourself a deal, Dr. Hunt," she said, kissing him lightly on the lips. "Thank you."

"My pleasure. Now can we please go home?

"I'd like that."

_In the end it turns out that home isn't so hard to figure out after all, because home is not a house. It's not even a place. Home is where the heart is. Billy Joel was right. "Home is just another word for you…wherever we're together, that's my home."_


	3. The Heart of the Matter

**This chapter written by angelamermaid.**

_In the operating room, surgical instruments are laid out in a precise order. That way, time is not wasted when it comes to using the right tool. It is drilled in us early – everything belongs in its proper place. And when one piece is missing, the entire operation can fall apart._

Cristina slowly opened her eyes in the early morning light. She smiled to see the familiar ceiling of the bedroom, instead of the cold dark branches of Oregon's forest. Had it really been just one day after rescue?

She could hear Owen in the kitchen. She turned her head to the right, and looked at the empty space beside her, at his dented pillow. He'd carefully placed her in their bed last night, propping up her injured shoulder with pillows. When she'd woken up in pain during the middle of the night, he'd brought her the pills that Bailey had prescribed, plus a hot pack. It had felt so good to have him right there, ready to take care of her. She could not have asked for better care.

The realization came crashing down. This was the first time they'd slept in the same bed since he'd confessed the details of his betrayal. There had been no sleeping as their bodies cooled after their last tryst, not when she had planned on leaving.

And one plane crash later, they were back to sharing their bed. Recommitted to saving their marriage. In the dawn of a new morning, she wondered – could they leave past hurts behind? Would he ever be able to move beyond the abortion?

Owen stuck his head through the door and smiled. Just seeing him happy gave her some strength.

"Want breakfast?" Owen asked. "Or do you want to sleep in some more?"

"I want my medication," she yawned. "More importantly – any news from the hospital?"

He nodded. "Kepner just emailed me. Meredith woke up a few times during the night, her vitals are stable. They're monitoring her and letting her rest. When she's awake, she asks about everyone, especially Zola, who went home with Bailey last night. Derek woke up this morning. Dr Anders will be examining his hand in a couple of hours. Jerry is conscious and stable."

She felt a cold sense of dread. "And?"

Owen sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Mark has stabilized, but he's still critical and hasn't woken up. Arizona … is severely septic and isn't responding to treatment. The attendings are concerned by her increased insulin requirements."

"Damn it," she muttered. "I want to go to the hospital with you today, so I can be there for Callie, and visit Mer."

"Okay."

"And I'll notify the Mayo Clinic that I am declining their offer."

That made Owen almost smile again. "Stay where you are. I'll bring you your pills and a hot pack."

oOoOo

As Cristina sat down at the table, she wagged her finger at Owen. "Don't forget that list of future Heads of Cardio. I need a kick ass mentor."

"I'll get to work on that." Owen paused. "Hey … Dr Wyatt is back from her sabbatical now. I was thinking … we could make an appointment with her?"

Cristina blinked. "You want to try therapy again?"

He nodded. "I think she'd be more helpful than the last guy we tried."

She shook her head. "I agree that she's good, but don't you think you're moving rather quickly?"

"I want _us _again," he told her. "I want us to be a functional team. I think we need a third party to help us sort out our issues,"

Cristina silently chewed and swallowed. "I think so too. But we just got back together. Do we have to start hashing out things right away?"

"I guess not. " Owen felt a twist of fear in his gut. Without therapy, he knew they'd fall back into the same arguments, and their marriage would truly collapse. He counseled himself to have faith.

oOoOo

Wearily, Callie sat by Arizona's bedside, and held her wife's hand. Throughout the long night, Arizona's condition had degraded as septic shock had set in. All of the fluids and antibiotics had been futile against the sepsis. Now her beloved was tachypneic, hypocapnic and hypoxemic. The attending physician was closely monitoring moderate liver dysfunction. It was only a matter of time before multi system organ failure.

Callie looked at Arizona, wistfully. She couldn't even kiss her, with all of the tubing in her mouth. Arizona made no sound, as the respirator whirred and controlled her breathing. She laid there, limp and pale, as her pulse was relayed to the monitor. Her wife had been non-responsive since succumbing to hypothermia at the crash site. Cristina had relayed what she knew, but those scraps of information weren't enough.

_Did she know? _Did Arizona know that she was doomed, as she sat there with a shattered femur sticking out of her leg? Had she made Cristina focus on the pilot to hide the extent of her own injuries?

"I laid on our bed wearing new lingerie," Callie said softly. "I was lying there, waiting for you, while you were propped up against the fuselage and bleeding inside. I dreamed of seeing you roll around on our bed with me, and now I sit here and watch you breathe."

She wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry I ruined Africa for you. I'm sorry that you couldn't fulfill your dream because I was being such an ass."

Mentally, she cursed the administrators from the Boise hospital, who'd done so little to alert the staff of Seattle Grace Mercy West. If Callie had known earlier, she would have been on the damn helicopter with Owen, searching for her wife. She would've moved heaven and earth to get to Arizona in time.

"Your parents are flying in," she continued, stroking Arizona's hand. "Jackson will pick them up at the airport, he wanted to do _something _to help. Everyone wants to know how they can help."

Callie wiped her nose. "Your parents … they told me … they trust me to make any decision that needs to be made."

She sighed. "I know you were helpful after the crash, making sure the pilot was taken care of. But you were hurt and you were in pain … I almost wish you'd died rather than go through that ..." Callie broke down and sobbed. "I don't want to make that decision … I don't want to have to say the words."

Dr Webber quietly approached her, holding new test results. His expression was somber.

oOoOo

Owen stood at his white board, and looked at the flowchart representing his staff. There were too many empty spaces. He sighed. The remaining attendings had been outstanding in juggling surgeries and putting in overtime. His counterparts at Seattle Presbyterian and Tacoma Methodist had been beyond gracious, taking on some of their cases and offering whatever assistance they could. Dr Anders was one of many neurosurgeons eager to treat Derek's injury and save the skills of a peer.

He rubbed his beard. He'd visited Derek this morning, and his colleague had been quiet and withdrawn, avoiding looking at the hand he couldn't use. Anders had done what he could in surgery to save Derek's career. Now they needed to wait for the inflammation to go down, and see how bad the damage was.

Contemplative, Owen stuck his hands in his pockets and felt a piece of paper. Chuckling, he pulled out the list of Cristina's choices for the new Head of Cardio. True to her character, she'd listed their schools and accomplishments.

Her words from yesterday repeated themselves: _"... the last words I said to you were 'I'm leaving' instead of the words I should have said: I love you. I forgive you. I'm sorry. You're my person. Come with me."_

He briefly smiled. _"I forgive you"_. He was so grateful that she was giving their marriage another chance, that he would go through the list and do everything he could to give her the best. But that wasn't his priority today. The two surgeons whose lives hung in the balance were foremost on his mind.

"Chief?" April appeared in the doorway of the conference room. "You paged?"

He gestured to a chair. "Sit down."

She looked nervous as he sat down opposite her. "April, I really appreciate you taking charge last night, and keeping me informed."

"You're welcome." She looked sad. "It was the least I can do, after everything that happened."

Owen coughed. "I want to talk with you about your Boards. I feel that I really let you down as a mentor. I didn't make enough time for you when I became the chief."

"You made plenty of time!" April protested. "_I'm _the one who screwed up at Boards! I'm the one who slept with Jackson then worried more about Jesus than the exam!"

Owen blinked. "You what?"

She blushed. "Which part?"

Reluctantly, Owen asked, "Is there anything I should know about the sleeping with Jackson part?"

"I wanted to," she assured him. "I got drunk at the bar the night before, then I broke up a fight and we were asked to leave the bar and I was feeling feisty and one thing led to another…"

He nervously chuckled. "You don't need to explain further."

"So then all I could think about was Jesus," April said. "About how he'd hate me because I was no longer a virgin."

Owen raised his eyebrows. "Oh…"

"Jackson was the first," she sadly affirmed. "I really liked it but … I'm a Christian. I'm proud to be a Christian and ... I was saving myself for my husband. I disappointed Jesus. I knew he must hate me."

"Ah." He nodded. "So you failed"boards because …"

"…because I was upset at myself." She sighed. "The proctors should've had elephant tranquilizers for my first two sessions. Then Jackson and I did it again in the bathroom and I calmed down. I blew the third session because I felt compelled to talk about my faith before saving the patient."

"Okay…" Owen cleared his throat. "Wow."

"I am so sorry I let you down," April said, tears coming to her eyes. "You placed so much faith in me by making me Chief Resident, my parents scrimped and saved to help me through school, my church spent so much time praying for me … and I got drunk and betrayed Jesus!" With that, she dissolved into tears.

Owen stared at her for a few seconds, before reaching out and awkwardly patting her shoulder. "It'll be okay."

"No it won't," she wailed. "I'm a failure! I'm a terrible person!"

He started to say something, then mentally revised his words. "When was the last time that you got any sleep?"

"I don't know!" She continued to sob. "I haven't slept much since I heard about the crash!"

"Okay." He squeezed her shoulder. "Go find an on call room and get some sleep. Find me when you feel better. I have something I want to discuss with you but I want you to take care of yourself first."

She sniffed and nodded.

oOoOo

Cristina sat by Meredith's bedside, and caught up on her emails, the fingers of her good hand flying across the keyboard of her laptop. Her friend slept through it all.

Bailey stuck her head through the door. "Yang, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here for my friends." Cristina pointed to her left arm, still in a sling. "I promise that I'm resting my shoulder. I'm an Olympic athlete, I'm not going to destroy my gift."

"Good." The other woman tilted her head. "So when are you leaving for the Mayo clinic?"

"Mayo is out." Cristina glanced up at her. "I told them this morning that I'm staying here."

"What?" Miranda crossed the room. "Why the hell – why?"

"I'm taking the Cardio fellowship here," Cristina told her. "Out in the forest, I realize that my priorities are a little screwy. So I'm staying here, with my husband, and with my chosen family. Callie. Meredith. Alex. Hell, you."

Miranda frowned, curiously. "Alex?"

"Yeah, he's staying too."

"I see." Bailey coughed. "Well, I've got rounds. Take care of that shoulder, Yang."

"I will."

Nodding, Miranda turned and left the room. As soon as she was back in the corridor, she broke into a broad smile. "My babies are staying." She permitted herself a quick and triumphant fist pump, before continuing on.

oOoOo

Callie sat by Arizona's bedside, holding Sofia. Her daughter was restless and wanted down, but Callie didn't want her crawling away where she couldn't see her. She couldn't leave her wife.

Alex appeared in the doorway. "Hey," he said as he approached. "Need a hand? Want me to take her?"

"Yes," Callie said, handing him the fussy child. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry," Alex blurted out. "I should've been on-"

"_Don't you dare_," Callie hissed at him. "Don't you _dare _think for a second that this is your fault. She chose to get on the plane. I will not sit here and let you blame yourself. Do not go there, Karev."

He nodded. "Okay."

"I'm sorry," she gasped. "It's just-"

"Don't apologize." Carefully juggling Sofia, Alex awkwardly put an arm around Callie. "Are you going to yell at me when I tell you I'm staying and taking the Peds fellowship?"

"No," she wept. "That's lovely."

He nodded. "So ... how is she doing?"

"Her organs are shutting down. She's slipping away." Callie's eyes filled with fresh tears. "I just signed the papers to take her off of life support."

oOoOo

Owen wandered through the halls, deep in thought. It seemed incredible that hospital life was going on as normal, when one of their own had just died, and at least one more would join her soon.

Lost in his thoughts, he was almost run over by a stroller.

"I am so sorry!" A woman carrying a toddler apologized profusely.

"Don't worry about it," he smiled, then side-stepped the stroller. He walked a few more paces, then turned around and looked back. He looked at the small child in her arms. Seeing young children in the past months had been painful ... but now it wasn't so bad. Surprised, he stood there for a moment. His reverie was interrupted by a phone call. Quickly, he answered. "This is Hunt."

"This is Dr Rachel Zimmerman from the Mayo Clinic," a woman frostily informed him. "Do you know how hard I worked to bring Cristina Yang here?"

"Oh." He chuckled. "I know. You promised her a research lab."

"I had to call in a lot of favors to make that happen," she informed him. "The Chief of Surgery and the Head of Cardio are furious that we lost her. To you."

"Are you expecting an apology?" Owen asked. "We're very happy to keep her here."

"I bet, I know she's your wife." Dr Zimmerman cleared her throat. "I did my research, Dr Hunt, and you're very well respected in your own right. So I'm calling to find out what it will take to bring you to the Mayo clinic."

Speechless, Owen raised his eyebrows. "Well, I'm honored but ... now is not a good time to discuss this. Can we talk later?"

"I'll call you again," she promised. "I'll do whatever it takes to work with Cristina Yang."

oOoOo

Gathering her strength, Cristina approached Callie, who was seated outside of Arizona's room.

"Hey."

Callie nodded her greeting. "Nick is with her, saying goodbye."

"I am so sorry." Cristina sat down next to her. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Exhausted, Callie shook her head. "Everyone wants to help, but nobody can give me what I really want."

"I am so sorry," Cristina repeated, feeling helpless.

"Wait." Her friend turned to her. "There is something you can do."

"Anything."

"Make your marriage work," Callie told her. "Give it everything you've got."

Stunned, Cristina slowly nodded.

"I mean it, Yang." Callie's tone was fierce. "I don't want to know what the screaming about killing a baby was about. I don't want to know about the ways that you've hurt each other. You two have something special. Bring him to Mayo with you and work things out. Because life is short."

"I'm staying in Seattle," Cristina blurted out. "With Owen. We want to stay together."

"Good." Callie's composure began to crumble. "That's _good _news ..."

Sobbing, she laid her head against Cristina's shoulder.

oOoOo

Owen met Richard in the ICU.

"Mark is still stable," the older man reported. "He remains critical, but it's a little bit of hope."

Owen nodded. "I'm glad to hear it. I just saw Derek again and he's not feeling optimistic. Bailey arranged for him to see Zola to try and cheer him up."

Hearing loud sobs, they both turned and looked in the same direction. The Robbins family left Arizona's room, clinging to each other, and Callie went in, accompanied by Bailey.

"Callie has requested that we ... you and I ... perform one last duty for Arizona," Richard slowly said.

oOoOo

Callie stood by Arizona's bedside, and stroked her wife's lovely blonde hair. The only sounds were those of the machines keeping her alive. Bailey stood by, respectfully.

"I asked Cristina what happened at the crash site," Callie mused aloud. "I asked Meredith, briefly when she was awake. I asked the pilot. What I really wanted to know was ... did she have any messages for me?"

Miranda nodded gently.

"They told me how she made everyone else her priority." She smiled ruefully. "And you know what? That's okay. She didn't have to leave me a final message, she said everything she needed to say, all the time. I know her feelings."

Miranda touched her elbow. "She will be greatly missed." She nodded towards the door. "Many of your friends are gathering outside, they'll be here for you. As will I."

Crying, Callie turned towards Arizona. "Could you give me a moment with her?"

"Of course." Bailey patted her hand. Quickly, she stepped out of the room, and faced the crowd of people waiting. Jackson was speaking with Arizona's parents, while Sofia slept in Alex's arms. Owen was quietly rubbing Cristina's back and Julia was staring at the floor, lost in thought. Sniffling, April wiped her eyes. Richard stood by, stalwart. They looked at each other, and waited.

"Miranda?" Callie softly called out. She turned her head and looked back into the room. "I can let go now."

Bailey signalled Richard and Owen, who silently joined her in the room. Working respectfully, they removed the tubing and turned off the machines, leaving only the morphine drip attached. The men nodded their respects to Callie and Arizona, before leaving.

Tears ran down Callie's face, as she leaned over and briefly kissed Arizona, before putting her arms around her. She leaned her face against her wife's, and closed her eyes. Arizona was still and silent.

After a while, Callie moved back, allowing Miranda to step forward with a stethoscope. Bailey checked for signs of life, then quietly spoke. "Time of death, 2:50 p.m."

oOoOo

Lost in thought again, Owen stood on the vent. It had been a bittersweet honor, to help guide Arizona to the next life. As always, his mind went again to Cristina and the possibility of a future together. He wondered if they could really make it, after all.

Once again, his phone interrupted his reverie. Grimacing, he answered, stepping out of the noisy boiler room. "This is Hunt."

"This is Dr Rachel Zimmerman again," she informed him. "I've put together a proposal and-"

"Look, you're wasting your time," Owen told her. "I've just lost a second doctor to the plane crash. I may lose another. And my best neurosurgeon can't move the fingers of his left hand. There is nothing that you can offer me right now to make me leave this hospital."

"I'm sorry," she said, softening her tone. "I'm sure you did what you could for your team, I - I get very driven when I have a goal in mind. And I really wanted to work with Cristina Yang. Surgeons like her are one in a million."

Exhaling, Owen relaxed. "She's worth fighting for."

oOoOo

Meredith sipped some water and laid her head back on her pillow. Her world had just been shattered … the crash, Lexie, Arizona. She'd been told that Derek was shutting everyone out and she wanted to go to him. Her doctors promised that if she had a good night, she could see her husband in the morning. At least the nurses had been able to bring Zola to her, so she could see and love on her little girl.

"You're awake!" Cristina stood in the doorway, her arm in a sling. "I was by earlier and you were asleep,"

"I'm up now!" Meredith smiled to see at least one survivor up and about. "I hear you rescued us with the flare gun!"

"Only because Owen commandeered a helicopter to find us." Cristina walked over and clasped Meredith's hand. "It's good to see you."

"How's your shoulder?"

"It's sore, but okay." Cristina was subdued. "I've been spending the day with Callie … we lost Arizona."

"I heard." Meredith sighed. "Thatcher was here, briefly. He's a wreck. Molly is going to fly in and … arrange things."

"I'm so sorry."

"I know." Meredith stretched. "Do you think you'll be able to stay for the funeral?"

"I'll be here." Cristina braced herself. "I'm staying in Seattle and taking the Cardio fellowship. I'm staying with Owen. I'm staying for my chosen family. Which includes my husband. And you. Plus Callie and Alex."

Silently, her friend raised her eyebrows.

"I'm sure about Owen," Cristina told her. "We want to stay together. We don't know how, but we want to. I've forgiven him."

"Okay," Meredith softly acknowledged. She glanced at Cristina. "If I'm not your person … who am I in your family?"

"You're my twisted sister," Cristina informed her. "Always."

She smiled. "I like that."

"So, Owen is going to find me a new kick ass Head of Cardio and a research lab," Cristina grinned. "I gave him a list of suitable candidates and told him to make staying worth it."

"The Mayo Clinic _is _very prestigious. He's got some work to do."

"True." Cristina slid into a chair. "Everyone on their Cardio team is a superstar. We'll just have to come up with an all-star team of our own."

Jackson appeared in the doorway. "Hey". He nodded at Cristina. "Owen asked me to find you and give you a ride home. He thinks you must be tired by now."

"Aren't you helpful?" Cristina chuckled. "Haven't you been doing enough for everyone today?"

"I'm doing what I can to help." He shrugged. Then his eyes went dark. "I'll tell the two of you now – I'm still going to Tulane. After the funerals."

"Oh." Meredith looked disappointed.

Jackson looked away. "I can't stay here, I see … her … everywhere."

Meredith swallowed. "Then you should go."

oOoOo

In his conference room, Owen handed April a box of Kleenex and gestured to a chair. "Please, have a seat."

Nervously she sat down and faced him again.

"As you know .." he sighed. "We have a fifth year resident spot open now. Due to … unfortunate circumstances.

Eyes wide, April slowly nodded.

"So … I'm offering it to you," Owen told her. "On certain conditions."

"I'll do better this year," she said, fervently. "I'll focus on my surgical hours, and I'll leave Jesus out of the hospital."

"Uh huh." He smiled gently. "Maybe you could keep him around, in moderation. Prayer never hurts, when a life is on the line."

She beamed.

"If I may offer some constructive criticism, I think you spent too much time being Chief Resident and not enough time in the OR. So … this year, I'm going to need your organizational skills in the Pit, and I'm going to closely monitor your surgical hours to make sure you're better prepared for boards, okay?"

"Okay," she breathed. "_Thank you_."

Owen smiled gently. "And, um, what's the phrase? 'Hate the sin but love the sinner'? Do you think Jesus could love you anyways? I'm not an expert, but I think he was very big on loving those who knew they had done wrong by him."

"I hope so," she breathed, tears springing in her eyes.

He handed her a kleenex. "Go home, Dr Kepner, and get some real rest. You're a soldier, you need to battle your issues in order to pass the Boards. Tomorrow, I want to see you ready for a new year, guns-a-blazing."

"You got it!" April impulsively leaped up and hugged Owen. "Thank you for giving me another chance!"

He saluted her. "You're welcome."

oOoOo

Callie rushed through the ICU, to where Julia was waiting. "I heard Mark was waking up," she told the redhaired woman. "Is it true?"

Smiling and teary, Julia nodded and gestured. Callie entered the room, where Mark was propped up in his bed. His eyes were barely open, but she detected a flicker in them.

"Thank God," she said.

"Callie." Mark feebly reached out. "She … Arizona … she wouldn't let me give up … I wanted to …after Lexie ..."

Callie's eyes filled with tears as she took Mark's hand. "Shhhh."

"I have to … tell you," he continued. "She told me to hang on … for you, Sofia … for her."

"Oh Mark..." She clung to his hand, trying to find the words to tell him that her world was shattered.

"I'm sorry," he croaked out. "Julia ... told me."

She looked into his eyes and knew that words weren't necessary.

"Thank you for telling me what Arizona said," Callie said, tears rolling down her face. "You have no idea of what that means to me. So you know that you have to hang on, right?"

Mark barely nodded.

"I'm going to hang on for you and Sofia," she said, softly. "You're going to listen to your medical team and I'll help you, and then you'll be across the hall again. Because we're both lost the loves of our lives, and we're going to need each other so very much."

His eyes never left hers as he squeezed her hand with what little strength he had.

oOoOo

Owen yawned as he climbed the steps in the firehouse. He smiled to see Cristina seated on the couch, typing one-handed. No matter how draining the day had been, it felt good to see her in their home again.

"Hey." He bent over and kissed her forehead, before sitting next to her. "I hear Meredith is doing much better."

"She is."

"Good."

She reached over and ran her fingers through his ginger hair. "There's pizza in the fridge if you want some."

"Okay." He half-smiled. "I hired a few people today."

"Oh?"

"Uh huh. April is going to repeat her last residency year, and I'll do what I can to help her pass the Boards next summer."

Cristina's shoulders slumped, reminded of Lexie's death again.

"And I hired a new Peds attending. Solid resume. I was able to lure him with the promise that the current Head of Peds is really close to retiring. I think he'll be a good mentor for Alex."

She frowned. "Don't you think that's too soon?"

"I wasn't actively recruiting. The opportunity presented itself so I took it. You could say he's part of a package deal."

"Oh?"

Owen smiled softly. "He and his wife are leaving the Mayo Clinic and coming to Seattle Grace Mercy West."

Cristina's eyes widened.

He nodded. "I hired a new Head of Cardio. Dr Rachel Zimmerman."

"Get! Out!" Cristina exclaimed. "How did you pull that off?"

Chuckling, Owen put an arm around her shoulders, carefully. "She called me, furious that you turned down their offer, and wanted to recruit both of us so that she could work with you. I explained to her that I couldn't walk away from this hospital while we're already short so many people. We talked, she told me that Mayo's Head of Cardio isn't anywhere close to retiring and she's always wanted to run her own department, and so has her husband … so we came to an arrangement that benefits all of us."

Cristina's eyes sparkled. "Well done."

"And!" Owen continued. "She's sure she can bring some research dollars so we can set up a lab. But you'll have to share it with her."

"What?" She drew back a little. "I have to share a research lab?"

"With someone who wasn't even on your list," he lightly teased. "Worth staying in Seattle for?"

Cristina laughed and leaned against him. "Oh hell yeah. You came through. You came through for me in a big way."

"Thank you." He rubbed her leg. "Hell of a day."

"Yeah." She flashed back to Callie's stricken face, and tears came to her eyes. "Owen … we have to make this work. We have to find a way to stay together."

"I know." His hand moved to stroke her hair. "Have you thought about therapy?"

"I'm scared that it won't work. I'm afraid that it'll be just as bad as with the other therapist. That you'll never forgive me for ... having the abortion."

His hand paused, tangled in the black tendrils of her hair. He cleared his throat. "It'll be different this time. It'll be better."

She lifted her head to look directly at him. "How do you know that?"

His face was sorrowful but his tone was gentle. "Because this time … I won't be asking why you don't want children."

"Oh?" Cristina scrutinized his face.

"Ever since I heard about the crash … I've been coming to a realization," he slowly told her. "I want a life with you … and if that means a life without children, so be it."

Tears began to spill down her cheeks as she absorbed his words. Owen was choosing _her_…

"It's not an easy dream to give up," Owen continued. "And I need to talk about everything that happened. It's going to hurt both of us, but I have to do it if we're going to stay together."

She nodded. "Okay." Then she wiped her face. "Owen … why did you come with me ... _then_? Why did you hold my hand?"

His own eyes became tearful. "Because I'm your person."

Silently, her good hand grasped his and squeezed. She leaned against him again, and they sat there together, in the dim light of their home.

_Each death impacts someone in this world. The loss is felt and a family is shattered. We can survive the loss, but we will never be the same. There will always be some kind of void. That is what family is for – to support each other through the good and bad times, to be there as we learn to live a new life. And to remind ourselves that ... every life matters._


	4. From This Moment On

GA 8.5 Chapter Four: "From This Moment On" by lovemesomeowen

_We take our lives for granted, blithely going about our business. Our jobs, our homes, our health, our safety…even the relationships with the people who mean the most to us…can become so much a part of our day-to-day lives that we barely give them any thought at all. But what happens when what we've come to depend upon goes away? Whether by sudden tragedy or the slippery slope of neglect and indifference, loss hits us like a sucker punch. Is it possible to reassemble a life that's been shattered into a million pieces?_

Alex Karev walked swiftly through Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital, working his way through the labyrinth of corridors until he finally saw Cristina sitting on a gurney by the windows of the familiar passageway. Her head was back and her eyes closed, as she took advantage of the brief moment of quiet.

"Move over, Yang!" he said, sitting down beside her.

She glared at him, mildly irritated but too tired to make the snarky reply he was clearly expecting.

"No sling," he said.

"No sling," she confirmed, making room for him. "Callie says it will be at least another few weeks before I'm cleared for surgery, but it's a start."

He sat up a little straighter, concern in his eyes. "When did you see Torres? How is she?"

"Owen and I took dinner over last night. She's a mess." Cristina sighed. "It's only been two weeks. We expected as much but it's bad. She's barely functioning. We're trying to get over there every few days. She only goes out to visit Mark. Otherwise she's completely alone with Sofia in the apartment. I don't think it's good for her to be by herself so much. Too much time to think."

"Does her family know?"

Cristina shrugged. "I know she's spoken to her dad. Not sure about her mom or her sister. That's a difficult situation. She may go visit Arizona's parents. They asked again but she doesn't want to leave Mark."

"He's stable now. It would be a good time for her to go, actually. He's going to need her a lot more once he's released."

"Which was exactly what he told her. I think she may do it. She needs a change of scenery. You should go see her in the meantime. She needs her friends."

Alex looked guilty as a cloud came over his face. "I know. I've…been avoiding it."

"Then stop it. Get over your guilt, which has no basis in reality by the way, and go see her. She's going stir crazy and she's in no shape to come back to work. It's going to be awhile."

They heard footsteps in the distance and turned their hands to see Meredith hurrying towards them, a bag slung over one shoulder, and carrying a tray of coffee.

"Glad you could make it," Alex said. "Aren't you the one who called us?"

"Sorry," Meredith replied, plopping down on the empty spot on the gurney. "Anything that could possibly go wrong this morning did." She handed each of them a paper cup, keeping the last one for herself.

Cristina took a sip and then asked carefully, "How's Derek?"

Meredith looked exhausted. "He's very depressed."

"Eating cereal out-of-the-box depressed?" Alex asked. "Is he shaving? Taking showers?"

"He's managing basic hygiene, yes," she said, wearily, "but that's about it. I get it. He was going to run the Neurology Department at Harvard and now it's going to be months before we'll even know if he'll regain basic function in his hand. I get it. But he can't sit on the couch all day. We have a daughter."

"Owen's trying to figure out something for him here," Cristina interjected.

"I know and I appreciate it. It's just that it's more complicated than that. Derek's already gotten offers to teach…to present at conferences…but he's a surgeon. And I don't know what's going to happen if he can't be a surgeon."

"He could be a plumber," Cristina muttered. Seeing their confused looks she added, "Never mind."

"So why are we here exactly?" Alex asked, looking at his watch. "Orientation starts in thirty minutes."

"That's why we're here," Meredith said. "It's our first day as fellows! We survived residency."

"Literally," Cristina said dryly.

"Mock all you want, but we made it through our internships and our residencies. We are board-certified surgeons who have fellowships at one of the most prestigious programs in the country. And we are still standing. We beat the odds. Three of us made it. That deserves to be celebrated…or at least commemorated."

She turned towards them and lifted her cup, "To us. We did it."

Their cups touched in a silent toast, as the weight of the occasion washed over them.

"Can't we ditch orientation?" Alex asked. Seeing their faces he added, "We've been here for years! Why do we need to be oriented? Seems redundant to me."

"True," Cristina agreed. "But Owen's introducing all of the new staff members and there are several new fellows as well. We need to get to know them. They're the competition. And then we get time with our Attendings, so suck it up and deal. It shouldn't take long."

"Fine," he grumbled, "but I'm going to need lunch so meet me in the cafeteria later."

Meredith nodded her consent.

"Yang?"

"Yeah, I'll be there," she said, sliding to her feet. "Come on, let's go get this over with."

* * *

There was a knock on the open conference room door. Owen looked up from his paperwork.

"Come in!" he said warmly. He rose to his feet and extended his hand.

"Rachel. Michael." He shook each hand in turn. "Welcome to Seattle Grace Mercy West. Please sit down."

The Zimmermans took seats at the conference table.

"We really are delighted to be here, Owen. Thank you for making it happen," Rachel said.

"I'm glad everything worked out. How'd your daughter take the news?"

"Emma's in college now, so what we do doesn't affect her nearly as much any more," Rachel replied. "It's just a slightly longer plane ride. She's at Columbia."

"That's great. Well, Cristina is very excited you're here," Owen said. "She can't wait to work with you."

Rachel smiled. "The feeling is mutual. How's her shoulder?"

"Improving…the sling's off. She has to take it easy and really feels it at night. She'll be on acetaminophen for awhile. But we're hoping she'll be cleared for surgery within the month."

"That's encouraging. And there's plenty for her to do in the meantime. I can't wait to get started."

"That's good because I'm going to need both of you to hit the ground running. As you know, Dr. Altman left rather abruptly to take her new position and Dr. Robbins…well, Michael, I'm sure you've gathered that this is devastating time for the Pediatrics Department and for the surgical staff as a whole. They're going to need both your leadership and your sensitivity."

"Of course…I'll do my best to make the transition as smooth as possible, given the circumstances," Michael said.

"Just a heads up. Your fellow, Alex Karev, is taking the loss of Dr. Robbins particularly hard. She was his mentor and he was very close to her as a result. I highly doubt he would ever say anything to you about it. It's not his nature. But I wanted you to know. He's an excellent surgeon and very dedicated to his patients. Arizona trained him very well and we're fortunate to have him. Johns Hopkins wanted him badly."

"I'll make sure he's glad he stayed," Michael said. "Thanks for telling me."

"One more thing. Dr. Callie Torres is an attending in Orthopedics. She was Dr. Robbins' wife. She's on a bereavement leave for now but it's going to be difficult when she returns. I'd appreciate anything you can do to make a painful situation less so."

Michael Zimmerman nodded. "I understand."

"OK, then, I think that's it. Orientation begins in ten minutes. Let's go meet your teams."

* * *

"It's just for a few hours," Meredith said, exasperated. She furrowed her brow as she listened. "I don't want to have it at Joe's. I want to have it at our home. Jackson is my friend and he's getting a decent going-away party…yes…yes, I understand but I'm not backing down on this…we aren't done discussing this!" She shut off her phone, eyes snapping, and skewered a mouthful of salad with her fork.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Cristina asked. She took another bite of her sandwich.

"This is important to me. Why can't he understand that? I want Jackson to have a nice party."

"It could still be nice at Joe's," Cristina said. "Maybe it's just too much for Derek to handle right now."

"I want it at the house," Meredith insisted.

"Is this about Jackson or about Lexie?" Cristina countered. "Because this is not just about a party."

Meredith's eyes welled up and she blinked back tears. "You're right. It probably is about Lexie and it's about Derek, too. I know I'm not being rational. But I'm doing this and I'm done talking about it."

"Okay," Cristina said. She scanned the cafeteria, looking for Alex. "I hope he gets here soon. I can't stay long."

"Why not? It's our first day and you can't even operate yet!" She stabbed another bite of salad, still upset.

"Owen and I have therapy this afternoon with Dr. Wyatt. It's our first session."

"I thought that was last week."

"Last week was individual sessions. This is a joint session," Cristina replied. Seeing the look on Meredith's face, she added, "I don't want to hear it."

"I didn't say anything!"

"You said plenty. Leave it alone, Mer…"

Meredith frowned again, as a text message pinged on her phone. "Fine. Whatever. I have enough to deal with right now anyway." She read the text. "Great. That's Thatcher again. He keeps texting me. He wants to talk. Really? " She paused. "Am I a terrible person?"

"Probably," Alex said, joining them at last. "What did you do this time?"

"Thatcher wants to meet with me and I know Lexie just died and I should probably do it but I'm dealing with work and Derek and Zola…"

"And the fact that you and Thatcher have exchanged about thirty words in three decades…" Cristina added. "You're not a terrible person but you're going to have to bite the bullet and see him. Sorry."

"I know," Meredith said, resigned. "Let's talk about something else. How did it go with the Zimmermans?"

"Mine is great," Cristina volunteered. "She's an amazing surgeon, she wants to teach me and she isn't involved in my personal life in any way. It's kind of a miracle, actually. I'm going to get the research lab up and running. And I have full participation in any case she's working on…the only thing I can't do yet is cut."

"Mine's good, too," Alex said. "I mean, he's not Dr. Robbins…but he knows his stuff and so far he hasn't pulled any crap…"

He stopped mid-sentence, distracted.

Meredith and Cristina followed his gaze and then exchanged knowing glances.

"Who's that?" Meredith asked.

Absent-mindedly he replied, "Um…what? Who's who?"

"The stunning redhead in the dessert line," Meredith said pointedly.

"I know who that is," Cristina said, as Alex turned bright pink. "Give me a minute…what's her name? Chamberlain. Erika Chamberlain…new Ortho Fellow. Ooh! This is perfect." She caught Dr. Chamberlain's eye and beckoned to her.

"What are you doing?" Alex asked. "Don't do that!"

"What? Callie asked me to say hi…offer to help her…blah blah. It's no big deal."

"You're never nice to new people," Alex muttered.

"Yeah, well I'm making an exception, given that Callie's _wife just died_. This isn't junior high school. Man up." She stood to greet Erika Chamberlain, who was looking curious.

"I'm Cristina Yang. Cardio Fellow," Cristina said smoothly. "I just wanted to welcome you to Seattle Grace. Callie Torres is a friend of mine. I know you're going to enjoy working with her. If you need anything, let me know."

Erika nodded and smiled warmly. "Erika Chamberlain. It's nice to meet you."

"This is Meredith Grey from General and Alex Karev, Pediatrics. Why don't you sit down? I'm on my way out anyway."

"Are you sure I'm not interrupting?" Erika asked.

"Not at all," Cristina insisted, as Meredith and Alex looked skeptical. "See you tonight!" She smiled as she walked away, mouthing to Alex, _"You're welcome."_

* * *

"Well, are you going to come in or not?" Mark asked.

Jackson, who had been standing silently in the doorway deciding whether or not to knock, gave a start. "I thought you were asleep."

"I'm not," Mark said gruffly. "So the Prodigal Resident returns…"

Jackson looked uncomfortable. "Yeah, I'm sorry I haven't been by more often. I was here a lot before you woke up," he added, lamely.

"Yeah, I know." Mark decided to let the kid off-the-hook. "That's what everyone said. I know it's a weird situation with you leaving and Lexie and everything…"

"That's no excuse," Jackson said. "I really am sorry. I didn't know what to say, so I just didn't say anything. But it's my last day and I didn't want to leave without thanking you. You put a lot of time and effort into teaching me and…I'm grateful."

Mark managed a small smile. "You're welcome. You're going to be very good, Avery. Make sure people know where you learned everything you know."

"I learned from the best."

"Damn straight, you did. You take care of yourself. Let me know how you're getting along? We're still the Plastics Posse, right?"

Jackson smiled, relieved. "Yes, sir. Plastics Posse." They bumped fists and he decided to change the subject. "So when are you getting sprung from here?"

"No idea. I suspect later rather than sooner…probably several weeks."

"You'll keep me posted?"

"That depends. You gonna 'friend' me?" Jackson nodded. "Then you've got yourself a deal. I don't tweet," Mark added, as Jackson grinned.

"You're tired," Jackson said. "I should go."

"Yeah. I hear there's a party for you tonight. Sorry I can't make it."

"Me, too. You take care of yourself."

"I will. You, too."

Jackson reached out to shake Sloan's hand and the older man pulled him into a hug.

"Go out there and be great. Make me proud."

"I'll do my best."

They looked at each other a long moment and then nodded their goodbye.

Jackson left the room, giving Mark a last glance and a wave as he went.

Sloan closed his eyes, exhausted, and silently wished his protégée well before retreating back into himself once again, lost and alone.

* * *

"As you know," Dr. Wyatt began, "I felt it was very important to meet with each of you individually before we started couples' therapy. The reason for that is two-fold. First, it gave me the chance to explore what is going in your marriage from each point-of-view and allows both of you to speak completely freely without the need, however unintentional, to censor yourself in any way because your partner is present. Second, it offers an opportunity to identify both patterns of behavior and unique perceptions, because each of you, naturally, views this situation very differently."

"A large part of my role," she continued, "is to be an impartial third-party who can offer a neutral voice to guide you through this process through my observations and professional experience. It's clear from my sessions with you both that Cristina's pregnancy and subsequent abortion was the catalyst for the implosion of your marriage. However, it is my opinion that it was actually what came before and after…or perhaps more precisely what didn't happen rather than what did…that led to the unraveling of your relationship. So, as we've agreed, our focus in these sessions will be communication. Until you learn to talk to each other openly, honestly, and directly you won't be able to break the cycle of toxic patterns in your relationship."

"So where do we start?" Owen asked.

"This is going to be a long process," Dr. Wyatt replied. "These issues are complex and neither of you is completely right or completely wrong. I bring this up simply to remind you that we'll likely be meeting together for several months. This is not a quick fix. Today, we're simply making a start."

Cristina and Owen both nodded as they remembered the last time they had sat on this couch.

"Owen," Dr. Wyatt said, "you have a tendency to lash out and then retreat or, as Cristina calls it, you explode and then go silent. Our goal is to get you to talk about your feelings because nothing good comes of stuffing your anger deeply inside of you. It always comes out in the end and often at the most unfortunate of times."

Owen remembered Zola's birthday party and nodded in agreement.

Dr. Wyatt turned her attention to Cristina. "Cristina, your pattern is making decisions unilaterally without consulting Owen in a meaningful way about what he wants or what he needs. You are no longer on your own. You are a married woman who needs to consider her husband when making choices." Cristina said nothing but nodded her consent. "The goal here is to help you to talk to Owen truthfully about what you want and need in your life and integrate those desires with his. You don't have to lose your own voice to also acknowledge his. Ultimately compromise will be required on both sides as you construct a common vision for your life together. As I said, today we're simply taking a step. So what's on your mind?"

There was a long silence until finally Cristina said, "We're not having sex."

Owen looked surprised.

"What?" Cristina asked.

"I'm just…that was unexpected," he said. "It seems like an odd place to start."

"Why? She asked what's on my mind. That's on my mind," Cristina said. "Sex used to be the one thing that was steady. No matter what else was going on with us, the sex was good and it was the glue. Then when things started to fall apart that went away. The last time we had sex was the night before the crash and I honestly can't remember the time before that. Before the birthday party I guess."

Owen tried to gather his thoughts. "You are recovering from a separated shoulder. Two of our colleagues…our friends…have died. The department is in chaos…"

"And those are all valid reasons," Cristina interrupted, "but there's more to it than that because we do what we want to do, Owen. If we wanted to…if you wanted to…we'd find a way. We're surgeons. There's never a time when life isn't crazy. We're tired all the time and we're busy all the time. That didn't stop us before."

"No, it didn't," he said. "I keep coming back to that. After…the abortion…we had sex. We had lots of sex. We buried ourselves in sex." He paused and looked at Dr. Wyatt who silently encouraged him to continue. "We buried ourselves in sex so much that we never talked about anything. We tried to pretend it didn't happen…that things were okay. Things were not okay. Things were the farthest possible point away from okay. And I don't want that to happen again."

"So we're not having sex because you don't want us to fall into the same bad habits," Cristina said slowly, working it through in her mind. "What else?"

Owen looked confused. Cristina repeated the question. "What else? I think there's more to this. What else?"

Owen hesitated.

"Owen," Dr. Wyatt said gently, "you've got to tell Cristina how you feel. How you really feel."

"I was so happy that night," he said finally. "Even after all that had happened. Even though I knew we hadn't fixed anything. After we slept together I was so happy …and then you said you were leaving and the bottom dropped out of my life. What if that plane hadn't fallen out of the sky? You'd be at the Mayo Clinic right now and I'd have lost you. You were saying goodbye."

Cristina opened her mouth to speak, but Dr. Wyatt held her off.

"So sex has a connotation of loss for you, Owen?" Dr. Wyatt asked.

"I … guess so, yes. I hadn't thought of it that way before…," he said, his voice trailing off.

Dr. Wyatt pressed on, "Were there any other times when sex led to feelings of loss?"

There was a gaping silence as Cristina and Owen's eyes met in sudden realization.

"Oh, god," Cristina said. "When I told you I was pregnant you were happy. I gave you everything you ever wanted …and then I took it away."

"Yes," Owen said quietly. "And I resented the hell out of you." Cristina flinched.

"I know this hurts. It hurts me, too." He looked right at her, his eyes blazing. "Why did you even bother to tell me? Why tell me you were pregnant at all when you knew damn well you weren't keeping it?"

"I don't know," Cristina said. "It never occurred to me not to tell you. I tell you things."

"You don't," he countered. "You tell Meredith things."

"That's not fair. I do tell her things. But I tell you things, too. Things nobody else knows. Not even Meredith. And when I found out I was pregnant I came straight to you."

"So I would validate the decision you'd already made?"

"Because my world was falling apart!"

"And there it is," he said, nearly spitting out the words. "Finding out you were carrying our baby, the baby we conceived in love, _my_ baby…caused your world to fall apart. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?"

He was on his feet now, pacing the room, agitated. "You wanted me to tell you it was all going to be okay…even though I totally disagreed with you. That's what I do, right? You make some decision without me and I say it's okay and then we move past it until the next time. It was not okay. I had no say in the decision and that was not okay at all but I still went with you. I knew I was going to lose our baby…that I would never be a father…that you'd already made up your mind whether I liked it or not. But I didn't want to lose you, too. I couldn't lose you, too. You are my world. And you needed me. So I went with you. Not because I was okay with it. Because I felt I had no other choice. Never doubt that I love you, Cristina. I loved you enough to go with you even though _my_ world was falling apart."

Cristina looked devastated. "I don't know what say," she said softly, as he sat down again, putting his face in his hands, spent. She put her hand on his back. "I never wanted to hurt you. I love you. Please believe me." The pain in her voice was palpable.

"I do believe you," he said. "But it still hurts like hell."

* * *

"So what have we got?"

Alex Karev looked up, confused, to see Erika Chamberlain standing there. "Sorry?"

"You requested a consult from Ortho. Stat."

"Oh, right." He turned his attention back to his young patient. "Scotty, this is Dr. Chamberlain. She's going to take a look at your legs, okay?" Scotty nodded solemnly.

Karev forced himself to stay focused on the task at hand. He appreciated a pretty face but not at the expense of his work. _What the hell is wrong with me? _

It was clear Erika had skills. She completed the examination quickly yet thoroughly and seemed to have won Scotty over as quickly as she had Alex.

"A word with you Dr. Karev?" she asked.

"Sure," Alex replied. "Be right back, Scotty." He motioned to a nearby intern. "Can you stay with him for a minute?"

They stepped a few feet away, talking quietly.

"How on earth did that happen?" she asked? "Both of his legs are crushed!"

"Fell out of his tree house."

"No head injury?"

"Minor. He was wearing his bike helmet," Alex replied.

"What?"

"He'd been riding his bike and forgot to take the helmet off," Alex clarified.

"Wow."

"I know. Guess it was his lucky day."

"I guess so."

The thought crossed his mind, unbidden. "_Mine, too_." She really was captivating.

"Dr. Karev!" Michael Zimmerman walked towards them. "Fill me in."

"Yes, sir. This is Dr. Chamberlain. She's here from Ortho." Karev gave Zimmerman the rundown on Scotty. "I'd like to operate immediately. Dr. Chamberlain will handle the leg reconstruction. I can handle the rest…unless you want to do it?"

"That won't be necessary, Dr. Karev," Zimmerman said, sizing up the situation. "I think the two of you have it covered. Page me if you need anything." He strode off, smiling to himself.

Alex and Erika looked at each other.

"What just happened?" Alex asked.

"Apparently we're doing this surgery. On our own." She grinned from ear to ear.

"I'm going to like being a Fellow," he said. "This is awesome."

"Right? Come on, let's go talk to Scotty's parents" she said, giving him a high-five. "We've got this."

* * *

"So you're saying you've changed your mind? That you can't live without a baby?" Cristina asked.

"That's not what I'm saying at all," Owen said. "I stand by my decision. I want a life with you, even if that means not having children. What I cannot handle is another abortion. I can choose to accept a life without kids as long as I have you but I cannot abort another child. I won't do it."

"Just to clarify," Dr. Wyatt said, "You're worried about another accidental pregnancy?"

"Yes," Owen said. "And I realize it probably sounds irrational, but we were using birth control when Cristina got pregnant. It happens." He paused and turned to Cristina, who had gotten very quiet. "Talk to me."

She looked up him and met his gaze. "You're not irrational. You're more on-target than you know."

Owen looked completely confused. "I…don't understand."

"I know," she asked simply. "Let me try to explain. I don't want to be a mother. I have never wanted to be a mother. Never. Some people don't want kids."

Owen jumped in immediately. "I know that," he said. "That was a ridiculous thing to have said and I said it in a moment of utter frustration. I know some people don't want kids. I guess I've just had trouble accepting that you are one of those people. I honestly thought you might change your mind someday, when you were farther along in your career. I know now that that's never going to happen."

"No, it's not but that's not my point." She paused and then just decided to say it. "I was pregnant before."

Owen looked stunned, clearly not expecting that.

"It was my intern year. I'd gotten involved with Burke. It was just sex. The relationship part came later. There was zero chance I was having a baby. I scheduled an abortion."

"You _scheduled_ an abortion," he said, noting her choice of words.

"Yes. That's how Meredith became my 'person'. She was my emergency contact. But I had a miscarriage a few days later, during the waiting period. It was an ectopic pregnancy…I collapsed while I was observing a surgery…my fallopian tube burst." She shuddered involuntarily, caught up for a moment in the memory of it all.

"You could have died," he said, trying to process the information. But he felt like he'd been punched in the gut. _Why was he just hearing this now? After all this time? It was like hearing about her non-wedding all over again, but so much worse._

"Yes, I could have," she admitted. "The whole thing was traumatic and scary and the hormones afterwards turned me into a freakin' basket case. But if it hadn't happened I still would have had the abortion. I don't want to be a mother. That's what I need you to understand."

Dr. Wyatt finally broke the long, awkward silence. "Owen, you've retreated. Can you verbalize what you're feeling right now?"

"I don't know how I feel," he said distractedly. He couldn't wrap his mind around it.

"What's happening?" Cristina asked, perplexed. "You seem upset with me."

"What were you expecting?" Owen asked, incredulous.

"I don't know. A little understanding? Some compassion maybe?" Cristina replied.

"What happened to you was terrible," he said. "I'm sorry you went through that and I'm not angry that it happened…"

"But you _are_ angry," she interrupted.

"Damn right, I'm angry! Angry that you didn't tell me! How long have we been together? A long time. And you never felt the need to mention this? Not while we were dating, not when we were talking marriage, not when you got pregnant and were planning to abort our child, not when we were trying to pick up the pieces…hell, not even in therapy! You keep things from me…important things…things that shape our life …that impact our decisions…and then you wonder why I'm pissed off? I'm your husband, Cristina. You can't keep things like this from me."

"I'm telling you now," she protested. "I didn't see any reason to tell you before."

"And that's where we fundamentally disagree. Because you fail to see the relevance and it's all that I can see. I tell you things. I include you in the decisions I make. I think of you when I make choices," he argued.

"Like when you yelled at me in front of all our friends at Zola's party?" she asked, her own anger rising. "Like when you cheated on me with that slut?" He looked stricken. "If I hadn't called you out, would you ever have told me about that? I don't think you would have, so don't get so righteous. That's crap! You made a decision that affected us both in a big way. This is on both of us."

"I chose to not tell you about the cheating," he said softly, so quietly she could barely hear him, "because I didn't see what good would come of it. I made a terrible mistake and I knew damn well I'd carry the shame and the guilt of that with me forever. I didn't see the point in making you suffer, too. Why put you through that? And maybe that was wrong of me, but I thought about it and I made a choice. And when you did ask me about it, I didn't lie to you. I told you the truth, even when the truth was terrible and I knew it might mean the end of us.

"I am willing to bet that it's never crossed your mind to tell me about your prior pregnancy. I could almost understand if you had considered telling me and then opted not to, but you don't do that. You lie by omission. I feel lesser in your life. Like I don't matter. Like I'm an afterthought. I know I've made mistakes and I accept responsibility for them. But I can't be last on your list, Cristina. I need to matter to you more than that."

Cristina didn't answer. Dr. Wyatt finally spoke.

"This is good." They both looked up at her in disbelief. "I mean it," she continued. "It's good. You're finally being honest with each other and that's what it takes for your resentments and frustrations to surface in a healthy way. You're discussing openly how it feels to have information withheld from you…and how it feels to be the one doing the withholding. I told you this isn't easy, but it's necessary. It's the only way you'll be able to rebuild trust and move forward. I know it doesn't feel like it, but you're making a start."

* * *

"April…April, come on, wait up!"

April Kepner whirled around.

"So now you want to talk to me? You've barely given me the time of day lately."

She spun around and began walking again.

Jackson got in front of her, blocking the hallway. "April…please…two minutes."

"Two minutes. I'm on my way to the pit." They stepped inside an exam room.

"I'm sorry," he said, simply. "I've been a real jackass."

Taken aback by his frankness, her anger seemed to evaporate without warning, but the hurt lingered.

"Yeah, you have," she said. "What happened to Lexie was…horrible…and I understand that you still had feelings for her, but after all we've been through…and I don't just mean the whole sex thing…we're best friends…"

"You're right. No excuses. I handled things…badly. Can you forgive me?" He stroked her cheek with his fingers, cupping her chin with his hand. "Please?" His voice trailed off, "I don't want to leave like this…"

She tilted her head up at him and saw the sincerity in his eyes. She nodded.

He exhaled and pulled her to him, wrapping her in his embrace. "You are my very best friend. I'm sorry I'm leaving. And I'm sorry that things are so…unresolved. But I'm not sorry about what happened between us. I'm not sorry at all."

"Neither am I," she said. "I don't regret it and I understand. You need to go. It's okay. It is."

He looked at her gratefully. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She was overcome with the reality of him leaving, surprised by how deeply it cut. "Don't let go yet, okay?"

He pulled her closer. "Okay…"

* * *

"Our time is almost up for today," Dr. Wyatt said, "and I think it's important that we spend our last few minutes circling back to something. Owen, you've said you can not accept the possibility of another abortion. Cristina, you've said adamantly that you do not want to be a mother. So my question is this. How are you going to resolve this issue? Because I'm not sure you can move forward emotionally until you do. And then a second question. If you know what you don't want, what do you want?"

"I'll start," Cristina said. "The only thing I've ever wanted to be is a surgeon. Well, that's not quite true. I wanted to be a ballerina for about a half a minute." Owen smiled to himself, imagining her as a little girl in pink tights and a tutu. "But since my dad died, all I've ever wanted was to fix hearts. I don't want to be a mother. Not now, not ever. I do want to be your wife, though. I love you and I love being your wife. That really surprised me. I did not anticipate that. So now I want two things: to be the best cardiothoracic surgeon on the planet and to be your wife until the day I die. That's what I want."

"I want that, too," Owen said. "I want our life and I want you. More than I want kids, I want you. But you've got to give me some time because my brain is still ahead of my heart. I can't make the desire for children and my dream of being a dad just magically disappear. It's going to take some time to fully accept that my life is going to be different than I thought it was going to be. But I'll get there. I promise."

"Okay," Cristina said. "Anything else?"

"I can't handle another abortion and Dr. Wyatt's right. I'm going to be stuck until we get that resolved. We need to figure that out."

"I know," Cristina said. "And I am amazingly fertile for a woman who does not want children. It's ridiculous really. So I think I should get sterilized."

"You'd do that?" Owen asked.

"I not only would do it, I absolutely think I should be the one to do it," she said firmly. "That preserves your fertility in case anything happens to me." Seeing the look on his face she added, "I hope I live a long and wonderful life with you, but things happen. Lexie and Arizona are proof of that. I think it's the way to go. It would solve our problem and give both of us peace of mind. We need to strongly consider it."

"I think we do too," he agreed. "It's probably the right choice, but I'm not quite ready to make the decision right this second. Is that okay? It can't be undone and I need time to be sure."

"That's okay," Cristina answered, "but I think we need to decide soon." She looked to Dr. Wyatt who nodded her approval. "How about a deadline? We'll think about it this week and then discuss it thoroughly at our next session and make a decision. Together."

"_You see this goblet? For me, this glass is already broken. I enjoy it; I drink out of it. It holds my water admirably, sometimes even reflecting the sun in beautiful patterns. If I should tap it, it has a lovely ring to it. But when I put this glass on a shelf and the wind knocks it over or my elbow brushes it off the table and it falls to the ground and shatters, I say, 'Of course.' But when I understand that this glass is already broken, every moment with it is precious."-Ajahn Chah_


	5. Looking for You Again

_For many patients, surgery isn't just a procedure performed by a team of doctors but is a lengthy process that doesn't begin and end on the operating table: beginning with preparing for the procedure, undergoing the actual operation, and ending with the final step that many find the most difficult to get through-the long road to recovery. There are many days during this period when the patient wants to give up. There are setbacks, it becomes too hard to focus on anything but the pain, and when nothing seems to be improving, they can't even remember why they bothered to have the operation in the first place._

* * *

As much as Cristina was willing to make efforts for her marriage, including that of counseling, she would never quite feel comfortable sitting on a couch and talking through issues in her relationship in front of a therapist. She shifted uncomfortably now as she sat on the couch beside Owen, listening to Dr. Wyatt sum up their latest session.

If Dr. Wyatt was to be believed, they were slowly making strides and learning behaviors so they could be better partners to one another as they navigated the next phase of their marriage, whatever that shrink-speak meant. Cristina had witnessed how Dr. Wyatt had helped Owen in the past and before that, how she had helped Meredith, so she could reluctantly admit that the other doctor wasn't completely terrible as a shrink and was probably telling the truth.

She just wished she could sense that the therapy was helping outside this office.

Even as their world slowly began to return to normal in the wake of the plane crash, and in spite of the fact that they had been attending therapy for a few weeks now, there was still a level of awkwardness present between them at home. It was frustrating, because there had been a brief time after he had helped rescue her and the others from the woods when it had felt like they were returning to the comfort they had enjoyed together before the fighting, the abortion, the cheating. She had realized that the therapy would bring their issues to the surface, which according to Dr. Wyatt was a necessary component of what they needed to do to work through their problems, but it had also seemed to stall any intimate interactions outside of their sessions.

Though they were getting along and were trying to work through their problems together, it felt as though there was something missing between them. A large part of whatever that something was, at least for her, was the fact that they still hadn't had sex since that day she had left on the ill-fated plane to go to Boise. They'd always had at least that physical aspect to reassure her during uncertain times in their relationship even if the sex had been hurting rather than helping them. To be without it now only served to further point out the uneasiness they sometimes experienced home alone together.

"Cristina?" Dr. Wyatt had evidently been trying to get her attention and she quickly snapped out of her reverie. "Did you have anything to add?"

She quickly glanced at Owen before meeting Dr. Wyatt's steady gaze. "Uh…" The whole talking thing that was required for therapy sucked sometimes, especially with this particular shrink who, she was convinced, could read her mind. "I was just thinking lately-" She blinked as she was reminded of another therapy session with different therapist. "There hasn't been intimacy. There hasn't been…"

"…A connection," Owen agreed, looking at the floor before returning his gaze to Cristina. "It feels like we still haven't gotten back to that place where we can just be together."

Dr. Wyatt nodded as she took down a few notes before returning her attention to them. "During your last session we discussed again the possibility of a more permanent birth control. Do you think that's a factor in holding the other at a distance?"

They shook their heads in tandem. "I haven't had the procedure yet. I have an appointment to meet with the surgeon in a week. I wanted to give Owen more time, and since we couldn't make an appointment until then…" Cristina watched Owen incline his head in acknowledgment. "But we decided to use a condom in addition to my birth control when we did do it again."

"Owen? How do you feel about the upcoming procedure?" Dr. Wyatt asked.

"Just the fact that she's giving me time-it means a lot. Everything." The gratitude in his voice made Cristina swallow. "It's still something I think about, not having a family, having a different life than I envisioned. It's a process." His eyes were clear as they met hers and she saw him move his hand instinctively towards where hers rested on the couch before he stopped himself. "But I want this-our marriage-more. That hasn't changed."

It was one of those moments between them, a simple look where she instinctively knew what he was thinking and feeling, a connection that had been rare in the months following the breakdown of their marriage and Cristina took heart in experiencing it with him now.

The moment was gone too quickly as they became aware that Dr. Wyatt was still watching them and after a brief pause, Owen picked up the conversational slack. "We've been busy with work as well, we haven't really had the chance to make the time to try and talk or be intimate."

Dr. Wyatt checked her watch before speaking again. "We're just about out of time. But I want to stress to the both of you that one aspect of your relationship that you both need to work on together is making the time so you can try to reconnect. To that end, I'd like to give you both an assignment to be completed before our next session."

Cristina blinked. "Homework?" The word came out in a deadpan before she could stop herself but as she met an equally nonplussed Owen's gaze, it was clear she wasn't the only one taken aback at the suggestion. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." There was a hint of a smile on Dr. Wyatt's face. "I want you both to schedule time for just the two of you. I want you to talk to each other about the events that have happened in your relationship and how they've shaped your relationship and marriage into what it is now. I want you both to talk about why you're together and why you want to stay together." She studied them from across the room. "Does that sound like something you can do?"

It was on the tip of Cristina's tongue to say that it sounded like a bad afterschool special waiting to happen, but she nodded along with Owen and they exchanged their goodbyes with Dr. Wyatt before leaving the office.

"Do you have any meetings or chief stuff tomorrow?" Cristina was the first to speak as they walked out to Owen's truck.

"Nothing that can't be postponed. Any scheduled surgeries for you?"

"Just a skills lab with some transfers. With permission from the chief of surgery I could get out of it." She considered for a moment. "Call in sick with the flu?"

"Sure. I'll call Richard and ask him to cover for tomorrow." They both smiled faintly at the lame excuse they had used previously to get out of their shifts as they walked out of the hospital to head home after a long day in surgery and a long evening in therapy.

* * *

"I don't know what to do about him." Meredith finished changing Zola into her outfit for the day as she balanced her phone on her shoulder. "He won't even get her ready so I have to do it myself. Now I have to pray there's enough room in daycare since he won't bother to do anything but sit there if I leave her home with him."

"Uh-huh." Cristina sounded distracted on the on the other end and Meredith frowned at her friend's lack of attentiveness. "Sorry. Seriously, that sucks. But I have to go, so good luck with McDouchey."

"Thanks. I'll meet up with you if I ever make it to work. Any chance you have time today to meet for lunch between surgeries?"

"I'm actually…I'm home today. So is Owen. We…we have the flu," Cristina rapidly elaborated.

Meredith tried to conceal her disappointment at not being able to vent to her best friend. "Well, don't stay sick for too long. I need you to keep me from taking Derek out to the woods and telling them it was all an accident caused by the trailer. I'll call you later."

"For bail money?" Cristina cracked; the first sign of attention she had shown throughout the phone call.

"Don't tempt me." She disconnected the call and tried to focus on her daughter. "Are you ready for some breakfast?" Meredith grinned as she took a giggling Zola in her arms. She really wasn't sure how she of all people had managed to end up with the happiest, most good-natured child on the planet, but on days like these she gratefully accepted it without question. "Let's see if Daddy got your breakfast ready." She made her way downstairs where she was greeted by the sight of her morose husband in his place on the couch, moodily studying his hand yet again.

"Say hi to Daddy, Zola." Sometimes Derek would respond to Zola being in front of him with that happy smile on her face, and other times he would merely pat his daughter on the head and leave the actual caring and parenting to Meredith. "Can you help me get her breakfast ready, please? I'm already running late."

"Do you know how many nerves are in the human hand?" He was doing it again, wallowing in the self-pity and completely tuning her and Zola out and reiterating all of the medical reasons he would never be able to operate at the level he once had.

"Yes. I went to med school too." Meredith set Zola on the floor so she could play with her toys there. "Derek. You cannot just sit on the couch all day…"

"Do you know the odds of me having my hand return to full capacity?" His words were so lifeless that part of her wanted to throw one of Zola's toys at him to knock some sort of awareness back into him.

"Yes. I know that too. But in the meantime, Zola needs to start having a normal routine again," Meredith emphasized, willing him to get that this was about their daughter. Her irritation grew as he sat there; looking at his hand and ignoring everything she was trying get through her erstwhile world-famous neurosurgeon's impossibly thick skull. "Derek, I know it's not easy right now. But I really need you to help take care of Zola…"

"'Not easy'? Meredith, this is everything I've worked for. This is my life." His voice began to rise with every word. "And I do take care of Zola. I'm watching her today while you're working, aren't I? So don't tell me what I haven't been doing…"

She could feel the last thread of her patience snap as she whirled around to face him. "You haven't been doing anything, for our daughter or for me! You sit on that couch and you don't bother to…"

"I may never operate again!" His yell echoed throughout the living room but in contrast, hers became quieter, keenly aware of their daughter being there in the room.

"You're right. You may never operate again. And if you don't, we're going to deal with that. I've let you be a little selfish. I've tried to give you time. But you don't get to sulk on the couch and stop living. Other people don't have that choice. Other people lost their lives or their loved ones on that plane. Callie lost Arizona but she's still being a parent to her daughter. And I…" She could feel her voice break. "I lost someone on that plane too."

Meredith ignored Derek's attempt to say something because he needed to hear what she needed to say. "Lexie will never operate again. She'll never laugh, play with Zola, or be with the person she loved. I'll never see her again. I'll never get the chance to try to be a good sister to her." Her eyes were watery now even though she looked at her husband with an unflinching gaze. "You're not the only one, Derek. And at least you have the chance to make a full recovery."

She didn't bother to look at him or see the realization dawn in his eyes before stalking off the kitchen to get Zola's breakfast ready to go so she could eat something in the car. "Come on. Let's go to daycare, huh? You can play with toys there." Meredith grabbed her purse and Zola's bag and her breakfast before scooping Zola up in preparation to leave.

"What are you doing? I said I would watch her." Derek's voice was different now, more solicitous, but her ire only increased as she balanced her daughter and everything else in her arms.

"You can't just watch her, Derek. You need to take care of her and play with her and be a freaking parent. And I don't want her being here and becoming as depressed and dark and twisty as you!" Meredith's final words would have been accompanied with a slam of the door had her hands not been so full so she settled for walking as imperiously as possible out of the door with her babbling daughter in her arms, who only made her want to reluctantly smile all over again.

* * *

"Shh, shh," Callie murmured, gently bouncing a fussy Sofia in her arms as she got off the elevator. "We're going to go see Daddy and we're going to have a nice visit…" Callie sighed as the baby whined, the unfortunate norm lately. It was as if Sofia sensed that something was wrong in her world because she hadn't slept a full night since Arizona had died and as a result was often crabby during the day. "I know, baby girl. I know."

She missed Arizona too.

But no matter how much pain she was in, Arizona would have never forgiven her had she let her indescribable grief interfere with caring for their baby. Callie had a daughter, their daughter, and she would never allow herself to give up when Sofia needed her.

When Mark needed her. Callie's heart sank even further, if it was possible, as she glimpsed a teary eyed Julia exiting Mark's room. She had sensed a break up was coming from past visits and seeing Mark's apathy and Julia's increasingly determined expression of pleasantry as she tried to be there for Mark and it was probably for the best at this point, but it didn't make it any easier to witness the other woman's sadness or to think of just how wrecked Mark was right now. Callie rubbed Sofia's back as she prepared to head into what would likely be an even more cheerless room. Before she could make her way down the corridor, however, she was stopped by a voice behind her.

"Torres." Bailey's tone was the same as it always was even though her eyes were full of compassion. "Long time, no see."

Callie smiled half-heartedly in spite of herself. The only people who had been over more than Bailey to see how she was doing were Cristina and Owen, and surprisingly, Alex. It didn't help much, but she was grateful for their efforts. "You should really stop by more often."

"I should." Bailey tickled Sofia's foot only to have the baby wail and shrink away. "Miss Sofia's in rare form today."

"Yeah, she hasn't been sleeping much. At all. She misses her mommy…" She trailed off, feeling the tears at the back of her throat and her eyes resurface. "We were just going to see Daddy, weren't we?" Callie closed her eyes briefly at Sofia's answering cry. "It's going to be a long day. She's miserable. Not that Mark's much better these days. But how can I expect otherwise when it's awful and everything is awful and…"

"Tell you what," Bailey intervened gently. "How about I take Sofia for awhile while you see Mark? We'll go to the daycare, visit her friends, she can take a nap…" Bailey gestured for Callie to give her Sofia's diaper bag. "I'll drop her off this afternoon. You can have a break and maybe she'll settle down."

"That would be fantastic." Callie gratefully handed over the bag and then gently set Sofia in Bailey's arms. "Be good. I love you. I'll see you later." She kissed Sofia's forehead. "Thanks, Miranda."

Bailey nodded sympathetically as she walked off, rocking Sofia to quiet her whimpers. Callie looked on for a moment before she was distracted by two men standing in front of her at the nurses' station, talking over a case. The younger of the two caught her eye and she was meeting the guilty gaze of Alex Karev.

She wasn't sure what he would be feeling guilty about at first. She had practically beat it into him that his being kicked off of the surgery by Arizona was not his fault and she wouldn't listen to any protestations otherwise, but then it hit her what Alex's specialty was and the person he would likely be listening so intently to as he looked over a patient file.

She hadn't meant for this moment to happen until she was back at work and at least pretending to be in a professional frame of mind, but the older doctor had seen her and Alex looked as though he was reluctantly murmuring the reason for his own distraction to the other man. Callie tried to straighten herself up and look emotionless, even though that wasn't the way her face worked and she mentally just hoped her skin wasn't completely blotchy as she came face to face for the first time with the man who had succeeded her wife in the position of peds attending.

"Uh, Dr. Zimmerman, meet Dr. Torres. She's one of our ortho attendings." Alex was looking everywhere but at her and she mentally shook her head at his lack of finesse, even though it this case it was probably an appropriate reaction.

"Dr. Torres." Dr. Zimmerman politely shook her hand. "Please accept my condolences. I knew of your wife's work. She was very highly regarded in our field and I'm sorry it had to be under these circumstances that I came to work here."

She never knew what to say in moments like these. The pride she felt at hearing esteemed colleagues praise Arizona's work was quickly dulled by the sudden, sharp pain that became even more present in her chest, causing it to hurt to breathe.

It just hurt, period.

Callie settled for nodding and smiling, even though she could feel the unwanted tears coming even more strongly now and her voice contracted a bit as she finally managed to speak. "Thank you, Dr. Zimmerman. I appreciate it."

Even though he seemed perfectly kind and was taking her shaky demeanor in stride, she couldn't be in this man's presence for another moment and it was with a clogged throat that she made her inaudible excuses to leave. Callie turned around so fast that she almost fell into the young redheaded woman that had just come over saying her name in greeting, and she couldn't verbalize any sort of apology as she walked away as fast as she could to Mark's room.

* * *

Alex hung his head as Torres beat a hasty retreat away from them. It hadn't been his intention to lead Dr. Zimmerman over to her when she was clearly not in the frame of mind for the meeting she probably never wanted to have, but the older doctor had wanted to pay his respects and Alex couldn't figure out how to politely steer the two of them clear of the situation.

"Bad timing?" Erika had just joined them after she had attempted to approach Torres and had almost been knocked down as Callie had abruptly left.

"Yeah." It was the understatement of the century but Alex saw that Erika understood as she was now wearing her own look of guilt. "Don't. It's not your fault."

"I should have waited to try to talk to her once she was back to work." She looked down the hall where Callie had gone.

Alex glanced sidelong at Dr. Zimmerman, who had taken Callie's exit with grace and was now reading over the chart Alex had just handed him before they had been sidetracked by Callie's appearance. He edged closer to Erika to keep their conversation slightly more private. "Look, Torres is pretty cool. She's going through a hard time right now and she's not going to even remember this. And you weren't the reason she left."

Erika's slight smile was appreciative and empathetic for her new attending's plight all at once. "Thanks. I didn't want to interfere; I just wanted to tell her I was sorry…" She paused for a moment. "I am sorry about Dr. Robbins."

"Why are you telling me 'sorry'?" He could practically feel the ugly combination of guilt, anger and grief bubble in his throat and rise up to fill his mouth at the mention of Arizona. "She wasn't my wife."

"She was your mentor, right?" Erika studied him with eyes that were clear and free of any sort of deeper meaning than sympathy and kindness. "That has to be hard on you-"

"It's not hard on me." Alex cut her off abruptly. He didn't get to receive sympathy from others when it was his own damn fault that she had gotten aboard the plane in the first place. It was hard enough to push the guilt from his mind during a normal day when he was immersed in the department and the work Robbins had been so present in, where she had helped him realize that he belonged for his career, but now this chick who didn't even know him wouldn't let it go and leave him the hell alone. "She died. I got over it and I don't need your freaking sympathy and Hallmark greeting card crap right now, okay? Go find someone else your bleeding heart can feel sorry for."

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth and as she met his glare calmly. "Okay." She didn't appear to be offended but as she walked away from where Alex and Dr. Zimmerman stood, he couldn't help feeling like even more of an ass at her dignity in response to bitter words she didn't deserve or ask for.

"Go to Dr. Webber and see if we can get an OR booked for this afternoon. I believe Dr. Hunt is out sick today." Dr. Zimmerman's casual interjection only served to make Alex feel worse as he turned to take the chart and to leave. "And Dr. Karev? Sometimes people aren't looking to hurt you. Sometimes they just want to help." The older doctor was looking at him almost knowingly before he took the opportunity to walk away, leaving Alex standing alone in the middle of the corridor.

* * *

Cristina had thought sitting on a therapist's couch was an uncomfortable experience, but sitting on the couch in her own home with her husband while the two of them struggled to find a place to begin with the exercise Dr. Wyatt had assigned them was starting to make her welcome their next therapy session.

They had talked about work, about their friends, whether they should go grocery shopping, but none of it had managed to naturally shift into a conversation about their relationship. She hated the discomfort in their home when all she wanted were those evenings where she would sit on the couch to read a journal article and he would come home and settle on the couch next to her. Even if they were silent during those times it would be companionable and it was comfortable to burrow into his arms as they relaxed together.

For lack of anything better to do she got up and began to pace, trying to tell herself that it would be fine; that they would be fine. Unfortunately, instead of easing her worry, the action only served to make her mind race even more as he tried to think about everything they had been through since they had met. She was sure that there were important things that they should be talking about, life altering things, but they were all running through her mind so quickly she couldn't focus on just one and instead she was left with nothing and everything in her mind at once.

It was when she happened to look out the window as she made another pass around the living room that a memory struck her, and the suddenness of it as well as the random nature of the event made her giggle out loud, echoing in the quiet house.

"What?" It was said with a hopeful note by Owen, who had been watching her pace and looking as uncertain as she had been feeling.

"It's just…the first time I saw this place…" She gestured towards the window. "I broke part of that window."

"That was you? I had to fix that when I was in the middle of doing the renovations." Owen shook his head, smiling. "The look on your face… I thought for sure I was going to end up on the couch back at your old apartment that night. Cristina Yang of Beverly Hills, indeed." He caught her mock glare with an easy laugh. "Yeah, that's the look right there."

Cristina pressed her lips together in an effort to keep the laugh from spilling out. She had indeed thought he lost his mind that day he had first shown her the firehouse. She looked around as the memory faded and shifted into the present, to the result of months of hard work on Owen's part and her bursts of willingness to shop and pick out furniture and other pieces for the newly renovated firehouse. It had transformed so much since then. It had become a place she loved - her home with him.

"I still can't believe I live in a house with a fire pole in it." She had to swallow another giggle as she remembered the absolute delight on Owen's face as he had shown her that particular feature of the house for the first time.

"You learned to enjoy the fire pole." The light in his eyes turned into a devious sparkle and she returned his mirth, because they indeed had learned how to work the fire pole to their advantage.

Owen's playful expression became nostalgic as he held her gaze. "I still can't believe you did that for me. That you bought this place…" He visibly swallowed and she felt a tug in her heart at the depth of the emotions suddenly surrounding them both. "I don't know if I ever told you how much it meant to me."

"You loved this place." Cristina wasn't sure why she was all of a sudden melting at the expression on his face, or why he was so surprised that she would do something like for him. "We wanted to buy a house. This is the place you wanted. I bought it because you loved it."

"Because you love me." It wasn't a question, but his voice went a hint softer as he spoke, taking her back to that night when she had waited for him with a bottle of champagne and the Seattle skyline lit up right outside their window. She had seen that same skyline reflected in his eyes; that surprise and happiness at her gesture right before their lips had met for a deep kiss in their new home.

"Because I love you." The softness in her voice matched his as she affirmed what they had both already known. It hadn't been a question for a long time, but the answering light in his eyes never ceased to stir her, to make the memories slow so she could savor every one as they looked at each other.

* * *

"Bailey's going to bring Sofia by later." It was the first time Callie had spoken in several minutes and it was the first time he had shown any sort of interest since she had sat down next to him. "She didn't sleep much last night and she wasn't in the greatest mood, so…"

Mark nodded but he seemed to be slipping away from her even as she watched. She had lost Arizona, which had been devastating enough, and now all she could do was watch her best friend suffer through his misery at losing Lexie even as he suffered through his injuries. And there was nothing she could do to help Mark or herself.

She shook her head at the futility of the situation, at how day after day they sat there in Mark's hospital room in silence as they grieved. Intellectually, she knew it would take time to overcome the first, awful phase of mourning where all she wanted to do was cry and rage against the universe for taking the woman she loved away from her and their daughter. At moments like these, though, feeling the ache in her heart and seeing the same emotion darken Mark's features, it felt endless and hopeless, as though neither of them would ever be able to escape their respective pain.

"I know." It came out as a whisper, an answer to a question Mark hadn't asked. "I'm sorry. I wish I could help. I know how you feel…"

For the first time, his eyes flickered towards her and she was stunned to see a hint of anger in his expression. "Don't. You don't know. You have no idea."

"Really, Mark?" The words were bit out and laced with venom as she tried to comprehend why Mark would want to hurt her like this now, of all times. "You think I don't get losing the woman you love? You really think you get to lie there and say I have no idea what it's like…"

"You had a life with Arizona. You had a marriage." It was the first real, raw reaction she had seen from him in weeks and even as it startled her, a small part of her was heartened that he was still capable of some sort of emotion. "You had the chance to be with her. You had the chance to tell her you loved her every second of every day and you took it…" His voice broke then, revealing the tears just beneath his anguished words. "I'll never get that chance. It was my fault. We could have had what you and Arizona had…" Mark couldn't finish his sentence, which was only fitting because she couldn't bear to hear anymore.

Her own anger had dissipated and her tears flowed yet again in tandem with his, because she understood the depths of his pain all too well. "We could have had more time. Every time I think about when we fought about Africa…all that time we wasted…"

"I should have told her. I should have told her every chance I had that I loved her. That it was always her."

"God, I miss her, Mark. I miss Arizona so much."

Mark's eyes were wet as they met hers again, this time full of grief. "I miss Lexie. I miss her every goddamn day…" His face fell and she was shattered once again as she watched him cry for the woman he had loved.

It was something that had always comforted them in the past so Callie carefully moved the wires out of the way and climbed gingerly into the bed next to him. She wrapped her arms around him and let his head fall against her cheek as they both cried, but even as it was cathartic to succumb to the tears with him, Mark wasn't who she wanted to hold, and she knew that she wasn't the one Mark wanted holding him.

* * *

Alex had walked outside of the hospital ostensibly to make a phone call in the relative quiet of the outside entrance to the ER. In reality, he had needed to escape Meredith's ranting about Shepherd and he mentally wished for the first time ever that Yang was working so he wouldn't have to bear the brunt of Meredith's frustration.

If he was being honest with himself, he was also still feeling like an ass about the way he had acted towards Erika earlier, and he needed to escape the four walls of the hospital for a bit to sort through his still on-edge emotions.

He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed, frustrated with himself and at his inability to deal with Arizona's death and his role in it. Even though everyone, including Callie, had told him it wasn't his fault, whenever he was inside the hospital and working in what had been her department, her specialty, the guilt would claim him and it was as if he was hearing about the plane crash for the first time all over again. The plane he hadn't been on, because Arizona had taken his place in a huff.

The last time he had seen her alive.

"Karev." Alex turned slightly to find Erika walking out of the hospital in her street clothes. "See you tomorrow."

Her approach was so casual that it was as if their previous interaction that day had never occurred. He barely had time to blink before she was walking away. "Wait!" She turned around, waiting, but he hadn't planned anything to say and he was left staring at her, momentarily speechless. "Look…about before…I was an ass. I know you were just trying to…" Alex gave up on trying to give her some elaborate speech and just said what he knew he needed to before she walked away again. "I'm sorry. I can't really talk about Arizona much right now. But that's not your fault so I didn't mean to get pissed off…"

Erika took a few steps forward, silently cutting him off. "I get it." At his stare, she smiled slightly. "You lost someone important to you and you don't want to talk about it right now. I shouldn't have pushed it." She paused and allowed her words to sink in before she continued. "And I can take you being pissed off, Alex. It doesn't scare me."

He didn't know what to say. She wasn't trying to make him feel bad for his reaction and was actually attempting to understand it. It was not something he had been expecting and it was something he found he appreciated about her immensely, how she didn't take his words and attitude at face value. "Uh…thanks…"

"But just because I get that you're grieving and I can take it, it's not an excuse to be an ass every time you're hurting." Erika's pointed words were accompanied with a surprisingly soft expression as she turned to walk away again, leaving him once again speechless and attempting to contemplate his feelings for this intriguing woman who wouldn't put up with his crap.

* * *

"…I said that you doing the pen trache was hot." Cristina curled up on the couch next to him, smirking. "Out loud."

Owen laughed at the revelation. "I'm flattered." He leaned against the couch comfortably as he faced her. "The first time I saw you I thought, 'who is the gorgeous, feisty doctor who keeps staring at the rip in my pants?'"

"I'll bet," snorted Cristina, remembering how the then mysterious army doctor had kept directing his gaze towards her and undressing her with those intense eyes. That entire night had been intense, what with her stapling his wound, him removing her icicle, and the electricity that had crackled between them every time they happened to catch the other's eye.

And then there was the kiss that had ignited it all, that had stayed on her mind and on her lips even after he had left for a brief space of time to return to Iraq.

"What were you thinking when you left?" It had always been something she had wondered about. "You came, you saw, you did a pen trache, pulled out my icicle, kissed me and put up the blinds, you conquered…"

"I was thinking that it wasn't over." His eyes were meeting hers now and they were same shade of blue and that same expression of burning intensity she remembered from their first meeting so long ago. "I figured you had your own life, and I had mine at the time…" Owen paused and she wondered if he was remembering Beth, someone he had planned to marry once before his world had changed. "But I always thought somewhere along the way we'd find each other again."

And there it was: that chemistry that rarely failed to pull them back to one another when everything else around them had gone to hell, only to be followed by the equally intense love between them that never failed to make them stay there.

"My turn." His voice matched the searing expression in his eyes. "What were you thinking when I met you on the steps of your apartment? The night of the intern fight club?"

Cristina hadn't needed him to tell her what night it was, because for her it was the first time after Owen had returned from Iraq that they had truly found one another again. "I was thinking your assessment was very accurate." Her smirk softened as she remembered his words and how they had struck her with their simplicity and sincerity. "And how that whole night sucked, how I just had that fight with Meredith, and then you were there waiting on the steps for me and you said it and…you made it better. I was sitting on the steps and you were there and it was the first time that night didn't suck."

She wasn't sure she was describing effectively just how his words and his presence had made her feel that night, how it felt like the start of something more between them at the time, but in watching his reaction, she knew at least a little bit of what she had meant had been expressed at some point.

His hand brushed hers where it was resting on the couch and she felt that familiar tug, one she recognized from those first few months when Owen had come back to Seattle. It had indeed been stolen glances and loaded exchanges that could set off so many synapses in her body back then, and though it hadn't changed, it was different now that they could express their desires in other ways. They hadn't been having sex back then either, and their kisses were few and far between, but always spellbinding when they did happen…

"The vent." She didn't need to elaborate further at the place that had been a staple of so many memories between them.

"I was thinking you looked even more beautiful when you smiled." His own smile was gracing his face as he remembered.

It had been a blur in the wake of the moments where he had brought her down to the vent for the first time. He had somehow known what she had needed, even though it was unorthodox and even though she hadn't known what it was that she needed, and then she was lost in the swirl of air from the vent and the heat between them as their smiles melted into a kiss. The kiss had effectively eradicated everything else in her mind except for the confirmation that anything could indeed happen on the vent, and maybe, anything could happen with Owen Hunt.

"At least that time I didn't burn my ass." She shot him a look.

"Hey, that wasn't my fault," Owen protested, trying not to laugh. "I seem to recall that you were enjoying yourself…"

"I was up until I ended up being the only one of the two of us with burns on their ass."

"I had my own battle scars. I had a hickey for all of the hospital to see, including Derek and Mark." He rubbed his neck. "I had to tell them it was a birthmark."

She snickered delightedly, picturing an abashed Owen trying to explain away the method she had used to mark him as hers. "And they bought it?"

"No." He chuckled as they drew closer together almost unconsciously. "I had to wear it as a badge of honor for the rest of the day."

"As you should have." She leaned in and took advantage of the lightness, pressing her lips against his neck and lightly tracing his skin with her tongue. It was the first bit of intimate contact they'd had and she was surprised at how natural it felt to engage in it again. Their close proximity to one another and the brief levity was the most reassurance she had felt in a long while, that maybe they could get through everything.

His laughter died down as he wrapped his arms around her where they were curled up together. "Our first time."

She stopped laughing as well, because their first time had been the beginning and end of so many things. There had been so many emotions involved that she couldn't begin to verbalize any of it: the passion and the exhilaration she had felt when he had finally taken her to bed, the terror she had felt when she was trying to fall asleep afterwards in his arms, and the devastation that had overtaken her when Owen had gotten up and left the on-call room after she had broken up with him.

"I know." He seemed to understand as they looked at one another. "For a minute, I was happy…"

"Me too." And then they had been apart and everything had been awful in the wake of the choking and the reality that his PTSD was more severe than he had known or wanted to admit.

"You could have walked away." His voice was almost a murmur but she heard it clearly and frowned, unsure as to where he was going with it.

"I did walk away. I was the one who couldn't sleep in your arms…"

"Not then. I was in therapy and when I was trying to keep you at a distance with the three words…" Owen looked thoughtful. "I was letting you off the hook. I gave you the opportunity. You could have walked away from it. From us."

Her frown deepened at the implication. "You had war wounds. I wasn't going to walk away because of something that wasn't your fault."

"But you had the chance to," Owen tried to clarify. "I was just thinking of all of the outs we could have taken. You trading me to Teddy, you giving me the ring back after our wedding…"

"You not being able to choose me over Teddy," Cristina shot back, before considering what he was trying to say. "You wanting kids, me not wanting kids…the abortion…"

"When I cheated." The words caused him to cringe and she could feel herself reacting to the word unfavorably as well. But she understood why he was bringing all of it up, how they had every opportunity to walk away from their relationship and their marriage in the past, yet somehow they were still here, sitting on the couch together. "Why didn't you take any of the outs, Cristina?"

"Why didn't you?" She knew her reasons and she felt she knew his, but neither of them attempted to verbally answer the question.

She waited a beat and held his gaze as she began to deliberately speak again. "That time you were leaving Joe's and I accidentally startled you. You had me up against the wall and you kissed me. You weren't yourself. You and your problems scared me. And I walked away."

"I'm sorry." His guilt was clear in his voice. "I just wanted to…"

She waved off the rest of his apology. "Then there was a time at Joe's when you and I were having drinks. You dropped the little bombshell about wanting to be around in forty years." Cristina tried to collect her thoughts and turned to Owen. "It scared me. The forty years, the not having a scalpel…part of me wanted to walk away again."

"You stayed anyways," Owen finished her thought. "Something made you want to stay."

She nodded silently, lost in the memory she carried with her to this day whenever she thought about not having those forty years he had once promised her.

* * *

Callie could barely see through the film of tears, but this time she wasn't sure if it was because she was still expressing her devastation at losing Arizona or because they had sprung to her eyes due to laughter as she remembered better days with her wife, with Lexie and Mark. "She came up to me and said she had broken your 'bone', Mark. How was I not supposed to laugh?"

"Because it wasn't funny." For the first time in weeks, Mark's expression held something other than depression and pain. He looked indignant as Callie laughed louder. "A penile fracture is a medical issue, Torres. Show some compassion."

She tried to bury her giggles against his chest but she was too caught up in remembering Lexie and Mark's horrified expressions. "She broke little Sloan. It's funny."

"It's big Sloan. And it's not funny." He couldn't hide the small smile that was on his face now. "The first time we did it again after you and Hunt fixed me, Lexie had a full medical kit standing by just in case."

She could completely picture Lexie's thoroughness and she smiled at the positive memories he was so badly trying to hold onto. "Hunt's a lucky guy. He got to see big Sloan and then he got to see me and Arizona take our clothes off right in front of him…"

"What? When did this happen? Where was I?" His indignation was back in full force.

"We were drunk. He and Cristina just happened to be on the couch when we came in all hot and bothered…" Callie couldn't help grinning fully at the memory of Arizona's body pressing hers against the door to their apartment before they were stumbling into the living room and throwing their clothes off. "I think he enjoyed it immensely."

Mark was almost pouting at the revelation. "And Arizona would get offended when I would look at her breasts..."

"At least you two learned to eventually get along. Even if it was bonding over beef burgundy and bad cooking shows." She shook her head as she thought of how they would go crazy over some recipe and how they would spend hours together discussing and making food, to her chagrin.

"Those cooking shows were educational. And you enjoyed that food."

"I enjoyed having pizza and beer in bed with my half-naked wife," Callie returned, the melancholy setting in once again as the list grew of things she would never again get to experience with Arizona. "It's hard. It's so hard to get into bed now, with her scent on the sheets, knowing she's never going to be there again..."

Mark was silent for a moment and she looked up to find his expression clouding over again. She found his hand and squeezed it, trying to draw him out and back to the place where he was actually talking about Lexie. He didn't even get that luxury of going home and enfolding himself in sheets that smelled like her.

"I'm sorry, Callie." His sorrow-filled gaze found hers. "I loved Arizona too. I'm sorry she's gone. I'm sorry you're hurting."

The sympathy didn't hurt quite so much coming from Mark, even though it did manage to make the tears once again well up and she pressed her cheek carefully to his chest, still cognizant of his fragile state. "I'm sorry about Lexie. She was a good person. And I know she really loved you."

It was meant to be comforting and she was grateful he took it as such as he nodded in acknowledgment. "I haven't talked about her since…" He swallowed. "Thank you."

She understood what he was saying. It was hard for her to talk about Arizona to just anyone, so to allow herself to fall apart and talk about the woman she loved with Mark had been the most grace she had found since that horrible day when she made the decision to end Arizona's life support. "I know. And thank you."

He finally returned the pressure of her hand holding his and they laid there together for an interminable amount of time, remembering their loved ones with one another.

Finally, there was the sound of someone clearing their throat in the doorway and Callie looked up to see Bailey and a now content Sofia.

"She had a good nap and wanted to see her mommy and daddy." Bailey settled Sofia in Callie's arms where she was still curled up against Mark in the bed. "Let me know if any of you need anything."

"Thank you so much." Callie smiled at Bailey as she unobtrusively made her exit and then at her happy baby. "You missed your daddy, didn't you? Go say hi."

"Hey, Sof." Mark gently stroked Sofia's cheek with his thumb. "How's my baby girl, huh?" He leaned in to give her a kiss on top of her head, the light returning once again as he rested his eyes on his now chattering daughter.

Callie's heart melted as she watched the two of them together, the family they had created. It would never completely fade; the ache in her heart when she remembered how key members of their family would be forever missing, but she took comfort in knowing that the three of them still here were able to find these moments of happiness with one another.

* * *

"And now Alex can't be bothered to listen to me," Meredith complained, pressing the phone to her ear as she looked in on Zola through the window at the daycare. "Maybe it's a guy thing where they just can't be bothered to listen to me lately." She waited a beat. "Cristina, are you there?"

"Uh-huh." Cristina's voice sounded distant.

"You're not listening either," Meredith groused. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah. Sort of. I still have, like, chills and stuff…" Cristina wasn't bothering to lie all that effectively and Meredith's eyebrows drew together in realization.

"You don't have the flu." Meredith deduced, leaning against the wall next to the glass window. "Are you okay? What's going on? Is it Owen?"

"No. Yes. Sort of. We're fine," Cristina insisted. "We're just talking through stuff…it's a therapy thing."

Meredith couldn't help sighing at how hard her friend was trying to work on her marriage when the therapy had already failed once. "Cristina, I know you're trying to fight for him, but…"

"No buts. Not now. I have to go." The call was instantly disconnected and Meredith felt a jolt as she realized Cristina's resolve and how she was sticking to the notion that Owen, not Meredith, was her person. She debated calling Cristina back to try and understand what was going on before her phone was going off. Meredith was surprised to see Derek's name come up since she was the one who always had to initiate contact with him these days.

"I was selfish." She didn't even get out a greeting before he was starting the conversation.

"Yes, you were." It was a start, but she wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily.

"I'm going through some things but that doesn't excuse me not being there for you when you just lost Lexie." Derek's voice was gentle.

Meredith inhaled sharply in response to Lexie's name but quickly composed herself. "I want to be there for you, Derek. I really do. I just need you to also be there for Zola. For me."

"Will me making dinner for you both tonight be a start?"

She smiled a little. "Maybe."

"Look, Meredith…" Derek sounded tired. "I know it's going to be a long road no matter what happens with my hand. I know that. But I am going to try for you and for Zola."

"That's all I want," she told him honestly, feeling one of the many weights lift off of her shoulders. "I'll see you when I get home."

"Okay. I love you."

She was smiling for the first time in weeks after a conversation with her husband and she went to finish out the rest of her shift feeling far lighter than she had that morning.

* * *

"You just made the decision without me. You didn't take a day to think about it. And I was just supposed to agree with it."

"Me waiting another day or another week wouldn't have changed my mind." Cristina reiterated, watching as Owen leaned against the wall that separated the bedroom from the living room.

"_I_ needed the time, Cristina," Owen returned. "Even if you weren't going to change your mind, I deserved at least that consideration. I didn't see it then as you telling me what you were planning to do. I saw it as you not giving a damn about what I thought and doing what you wanted anyways. And I didn't even get the time of day after we went to the appointment. It was always everyone else; Meredith, Zola, Teddy..." He looked away for a moment. "You asked how I felt…"

"Yeah." Cristina dropped her head in her hands. Reliving the most recent months of their marriage was proving to be the most difficult part of the therapy exercise. It was painful to think about how much they were hurting and how distant they were from one another then. "I didn't do any of it to hurt you. I didn't do it to cut you out." She looked up at him. "And I should have given you more time before scheduling the appointment. I'm sorry."

"I just wanted to be involved in the decision." His voice was quiet. "I wanted you to take me into consideration as your husband. That's all I wanted then. It's all I wanted afterwards."

As awful as those days preceding the appointment were, it was the days and months following that were the worst, at least for her. She hadn't realized it was partially her fault that they had grown so distant, that she hadn't been acknowledging his pain following the procedure. "I'm sorry. I thought…you weren't talking about it and I didn't think you wanted me to ask."

"I should have said something," Owen agreed. "That's on me. I'm sorry for that." They were quiet before Owen spoke tentatively again. "I'm sorry I let it get to the point that I did, at Meredith's."

Cristina smiled humorlessly at the memory of Zola's birthday party until her eyes unexpectedly filled with tears at the words he had hurled at her then. "Do you really think that I killed our baby?"

He leaned his head back against the wall and exhaled deeply before turning to her. "I'm sorry. I never meant to throw that in your face. I was pissed off and hurt. I don't think that, Cristina. I didn't mean to say it like that."

She had known it intellectually but it was something she had needed to hear him say for a long time. "I know I hurt you. I know I screwed up. But that…hearing you say that…" Cristina flinched as if she were hearing the words for the first time. "And then when you told me about the one night stand…and you couldn't even remember her name…"

Owen hadn't asked to hear about it but it all came pouring out at once as she tried to illuminate just how she had felt, for his benefit and for hers. "I couldn't even feel anything." The numbness that had slowly started to creep in the moment he had admitted to cheating had paralyzed every emotion, every sensation in her body, leaving her gutted in every sense of the word. "You would be the one to hurt me so damn badly that I couldn't feel anything.

"I know I was insensitive. I know I cut you out and I did things to hurt you," Cristina tried to work it out in her own mind. "I know you wouldn't have done it if things hadn't been as bad between us…" She put her head in her hand and wiped stubbornly at the tears burning her eyes. "And I know you told me why it happened, but…" She swallowed and tried to clear her throat at the nausea that always arose whenever she remembered hearing the story of how it all had happened and the images that still taunted her of Owen being with another woman. "It was torture. Thinking of you being with another woman, reliving it every single day after you told me, the fact that you treated me like crap afterwards because you felt guilty about it…it was torture for me."

His eyes were bright with emotion as they tried to meet hers. "There's nothing I can say that can tell you how horrible I feel about it. I hate that I did that to you. I'm so sorry, Cristina."

She nodded, lifting her head up so he could see her tears. "I know you are." If he had felt even a glancing blow of the pain she had endured in learning about his one night stand when she had cut him out of the decision to have the abortion and had ignored him in the months following…she didn't know how they were still sitting here, knowing that they had caused one another to hurt so badly. "I'm still trying to understand. I'm still trying to deal with it and it's going to take me awhile…"

"I know." Owen's voice was quiet. "I know forgiveness isn't going to happen overnight."

"And I know it's going to take you time to…to process everything. I didn't give that to you before, so…"

So what now? It seemed incredible that they could still be sitting here after all this time; after all they had been through, to still need and want this relationship so much. She glanced at Owen, trying to find the answer in him, but he looked as drained as she felt after this last conversation between them and they were both left there in silence, contemplating everything they had talked about throughout the day.

Cristina eventually got up after the silence became deafening and resumed her earlier pacing, this time venturing into their bedroom, full of memories on its own. She finally stopped walking as she approached his side of the bed, where a photo of her rested on his dresser.

"You looked beautiful." She heard his footsteps as he came into the bedroom to stand just behind her.

"I know." She smiled at the faint memory of a similar conversation she'd had with Meredith on the very day the photo had been taken. "You didn't look so bad yourself." Owen had indeed looked handsome, not only because of the suit and tie he was wearing but because of the look on his face every time their eyes met on their wedding day, like she was only person in that house, in the world.

"Would you have changed it?" Owen asked, causing Cristina to turn around to look at him. "The timing of the proposal and the wedding? How we did it so quickly…?"

Cristina considered his question, because it had been one she had often thought about in the darker times in their marriage: how they had married so quickly after the hospital shooting, how they hadn't talked about some of the more important things that they wanted out of marriage, how maybe if they had done things differently, they wouldn't be dealing with everything now…

"No." The word left her mouth freely and honestly, because she couldn't imagine their wedding day any differently than it had happened. She didn't want to. "I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't want to marry you."

"I wouldn't have proposed if I didn't want to marry you. To have a life with you. I know it was fast, after the shooting and everything…I just couldn't imagine living without you."

And there it was; the long and the short of why they were still here, why they were still fighting in spite of everything that had happened between them. There was no denying the times in their relationship where they had hurt one another, and as they had proved today in talking about some of those times, there was still a lot of work they would have to do. But looking at him now, she knew more than ever that she would rather fight and hurt and experience those terrible times with him than with anyone else, because the better times, the happier times between them made it all worth it.

"I want a life with you too." That was why she had married him. That was why she was still here fighting for them even though they never seemed to have it easy.

The reasons why they stayed, however, were easy.

Owen drew a breath closer so their bodies were just shy of touching one another's. "I wouldn't change anything about that day either. The ceremony, the reception, that dress…" Owen had loved the red dress she had worn for their wedding, to the point where he was almost reluctant to take it off of her after the festivities were over…

"The night in the hotel after the wedding." Just the mention of it was enough to make her crave that closeness between them again. During that point, the only times she felt completely safe was when she was with Owen. He had done everything in his power that night to make her feel safe and loved and to make her forget everything but the two of them and what they were capable of together.

Owen's hands were resting just above her hips now, barely grazing the soft curves. "I remember every minute of that night."

The atmosphere around them had changed and she could feel that undeniable pull to him, the indefinable connection that had been missing between them recently. It had blown up in their faces before, when they had buried themselves in sex and ignored the rest of their life and the problems they shared. Now, however, the physical pull between them didn't feel like a place to hide, but somewhere they could reveal themselves to one another again.

Cristina's arms slid up slowly under the shirt he was wearing so she could explore the muscles of his back before they were wrapping around him, encouraging him to wander her body a bit more freely. Owen's face dropped to her neck, allowing him to bury his face in her hair and to begin to nibble along her sensitive skin while she explored his jaw with her lips. It was far from being tentative but their approach was deliberate in the way they took their time in seeking each other's touch and rediscovering how they each responded as they melted into one another.

His lips had finally managed to work their way to hers and the intensity of the kiss was akin to being shocked back to life for the both of them. The need for him, for them, was too strong and as much as they had savored the moments before, now they sought even more from one another. Their kisses deepened and their bodies became more firmly entwined as they moved together towards the bed, only releasing the other long enough to strip off yet another piece of clothing and for Owen to reach into the drawer of the nightstand for a condom.

His palms were pressed against her skin and her legs were wrapped around his body as they fell onto the mattress, the heat between them building up so fervently that she could barely breathe between kisses and she was shivering from anticipation, unable to take him being so close and yet too far from where he needed to be, where she wanted him to be. Their hands caressing each other's hair, her heel dug in his back, his mouth pleasuring every bit of her skin that he could reach and leaving whisker burn in his wake, the way they fit so well together…it was nothing short of bliss after denying themselves this integral part of their relationship for all this time, but she needed more. She needed all of him now.

It was only when she instinctively opened her eyes to find his gaze that their bodies connected along with their hearts and their minds, and she lost herself in her husband for the first time in weeks as they created yet another memory in their home together.

* * *

_It's this final step, the most difficult one every patient must go through before they can truly heal, that is the reason surgeons make sure their patients have loved ones or caretakers to be there with them long after the operation is over with. Because when they no longer need physical assistance or help getting back into their daily routine, they still need someone to remind them that it's going to get better, to shift their focus onto making a connection with another person, and to remind them why they had the surgery to begin with: because the life gained is worth the pain._


	6. Life Is Wonderful

"Life is Wonderful" - Episode 6 of Season 8.5, by ebonybeach.

* * *

_The ancient African people once said that 'smooth seas do not make skilful sailors.' Every great surgeon can attest to how right they were. Because while being a great surgeon does take hard work, stamina, attention to detail, and commitment, it is not enough to simply master surgical techniques. It's not enough to know procedures inside out and back to front. Getting through a straightforward surgery is the easy part; learning how to deal with patients who throw up complication after complication is what sets the best surgeons apart. When things get really tough, it is not in their nature to quit but to persevere, to see it through, because they know that the rewards far outweigh the sacrifices and that ultimately, they will be richer for the experience. _

* * *

"So, are you excited about today?" Owen asked his wife as they lay in bed one Monday morning, relishing these last minutes alone before they were forced to get up and ready for work.

That day two weeks ago, when they had feigned the flu to focus on Dr Wyatt's assignment, was the day they reconnected and they hadn't looked back since. They had even started to feel something of the old days: the laughter, the play, the passion; the constant craving for one another, for a life together. Things weren't perfect by any means and actually, there were still little things that both of them hid on a daily basis; feelings they pushed aside, mainly associated with their own guilt about the hurt they had caused, but nothing nearly as significant as in the past.

After everything they had been through, to think that they could once again be so in love and so happy was incredible really. Cristina often found it hard to believe that just a couple of months ago she was all set on leaving him and starting a new life across the country - that felt like a different era now; a different life.

She was due to have her sterilization procedure in four days' time: the very definite end of Owen's chance of ever being a father as long as he was married to her. Despite his assurances to both her and Dr Wyatt in their weekly therapy sessions that he'd had enough time to accept the decision, Cristina had begun to dread the day as it got closer, terrified he was once again covering up his true feelings to support her and her wishes.

It was testament to how far they had come, however, that she had taken a deep breath and asked him about it the previous evening.

"Cristina, don't," he'd implored her. "I'm not burying this deep down inside. I swear. You gave me time to come to terms with it and I have. We made a decision together – a good decision – and now I am going to be there holding your hand as you wake up and not feel like it's the end of the world."

He didn't put any emphasis on his final words and Cristina found they didn't cut quite as deep as they used to. The fact that the abortion could now come up in conversation and not cause either of them to flinch was something which she knew would impress even Dr Wyatt.

"So you would've told me if you'd been having doubts?"

"Yes." He had pulled her into his arms then. "And the fact that you've asked me about it means more than I can say."

"I love you." The words just fell out of her mouth as he held her, and she had felt so proud of them both for how much they had grown that she hadn't been able to speak again for quite a long time.

Now she curled further into his embrace once again, thankful she no longer felt any twinges of discomfort from her shoulder injury. "I am so psyched to get back into the OR," she said in answer to his question. "Two triple bypasses today and a heart-lung transplant tomorrow. Cristina Yang is back in the game!"

Owen laughed at the enthusiasm he was so used to, and loved. "Rachel can't wait to see what you can do."

"And I am going to show her that I am a rock star," Cristina said seriously as she reached up for a kiss.

"You are," he murmured against her lips, squeezing her tightly to him. "You're amazing." The kiss deepened and for a few minutes, there was nothing else in the world but the two of them.

"Mmm," she sighed eventually, gazing up into his eyes. "I wish we didn't have to get up yet." She ran her hands down his bare back and kissed him again, toying with the idea of being late to work. Even with the excitement of the day ahead, staying in bed with her gorgeous husband and languishing in their rediscovered intimacy was incredibly tempting.

"Cristina..." Owen began to protest, but it was half-hearted and they both knew it.

"Rock star, baby," she reminded him, her mouth moving next to his ear. He groaned.

And that was the end of the fight.

* * *

Meredith entered the kitchen, freshly showered and feeling more human than she had in weeks, to find that Derek had made her breakfast while simultaneously feeding Zola and doing last night's dishes. The change in her husband since she had finally snapped and shouted at him was quite remarkable. Overnight she had gone from single parent and sole breadwinner to a wife who was doted upon, cooked for and even allowed to sleep in when Zola woke up early. It was obviously really difficult for him with just one useful hand and tasks often took him way longer than they would have before, but he was determined and usually refused any assistance she offered.

"Good morning," he grinned as she stepped into his arms for a hug.

"It is, isn't it?" She couldn't help but smile as he kissed her, then gestured her to sit down as he put a plate of pancakes in front of her.

"Coffee?"

"Mm," she managed around a mouthful of food. "Please."

She watched him move around the kitchen, making Zola's lunch as best he could with his injury. He seemed to be doing pretty well, but she did worry that it wasn't normal to snap out of such a profound depression so quickly. She was particularly anxious today because he had an appointment with his surgeon to discuss what they were going to do next to help him regain as much function in his hand as possible. Derek seemed very optimistic about the whole thing and she was afraid of how he was going to react if he wasn't given the answers he wanted.

As he reached up to a shelf to put some mugs away, however, all such thoughts vanished from her mind and she leapt to her feet with a shout.

"What?" Derek spun around, his eyes automatically training in on Zola who was quite happily sitting in her highchair, smearing oatmeal all over her hands.

"That cup," Meredith explained as she rushed over and took down a china cup with a painting of a horse on it. "It was Lexie's. I can't believe I missed it."

"I'll do another quick sweep," Derek said calmly, touching her arm. "Don't worry, everything will be fine. Mark probably won't recognize everything Lexie ever owned."

"I hope not."

"Anyway, we've talked about this. His apartment will have more memories of her than our house. It's not like we're making him sleep in her room surrounded by all her things. He's in Izzie's room, which I'm pretty sure neither of them ever went in."

Meredith nodded, trying to believe him. "I just don't want him coming home from hospital and being even more depressed when he's constantly reminded of her."

"He wouldn't have agreed to stay here if he thought he couldn't handle it," Derek said evenly. "Now stop worrying and finish your breakfast or we'll be late. It's a big day today, isn't it Zola?" he cooed to his daughter, wiping her face and hands with a cloth as she squirmed. "Daddy's going to try and get his hand fixed so he can play with you more, and then he's meeting Uncle Owen to sort out some work so Mommy doesn't have to worry so much. Mommy likes to worry," he added in a confidential whisper.

"Mommy's had good reason to worry recently." Meredith shot him a warning glance but Derek just laughed.

"I know, I know." He managed to hoist Zola up with one arm and crossed the kitchen to his wife. "But as of today, you'll have two invalid men running your house and looking after your daughter. What could possibly go wrong?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You really want me to go there?"

"No, I don't." He kissed her quickly, with a smile, and handed Zola over. "I'll just have another look around the house for anything of Lexie's, and I'll put that mug in the attic with the rest of her stuff. Then we can go."

* * *

"Hey, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," Cristina said tentatively as she and Owen strolled to the hospital. It was a clear, cold morning and she pulled her coat tightly around her. She felt a little nervous, and she knew why: everything was going so well that she was scared what she was about to say would upset the balance again. It wasn't that they actively avoided mentioning the issues which had plagued them, as they would have done in the past, but such topics rarely came up in day to day conversation.

As a result, she was very aware that at any moment something could rise up and really test their relationship, their new-found communication skills: be it a sudden, stark reminder of the abortion or the cheating, or a minor disagreement over what kind of takeout to order for dinner. Despite their renewed commitment to one another and the certainty that being together was worth all the pain, Cristina wasn't yet one hundred percent sure they had reached a place where they could overcome such as test as easily as they once would have done.

"I, um... have an assignment for you."

Owen glanced at her. "Oh yeah?"

She took a deep breath. This issue had been at the back of her mind for a while now, quiet but unshakable, and she had practiced voicing it many times but had never managed to make it sound quite right. "After everything that's happened, everything I can't give you, I feel like... Like I might not always be enough for you."

"Cristina- " He sighed, anticipating where this was going, but she pushed on.

"No, hear me out. Being a father was one of your dreams. I know that. And now you can't have that dream because of me, and even though we talk about it and I believe you when you say you're coming to terms with it, a little bit of me is afraid that I have a lot to live up to. That I have to fill that hole which I've created in your life. And I want to do that more than anything, but I don't think I know how."

They had stopped midway through her speech to cross the street but now neither of them made a move to do so even though the traffic had halted. It was a big topic to discuss and she wished she had picked a better moment when they would have more time to talk about it, especially when Owen was looking at her with that intense, unreadable blue-eyed gaze of his.

"So, my assignment is this," she said shakily. "I want you to make a list of everything you want from life. Every other dream you've ever had. And then I'm going to spend the rest of my life helping you to fulfil them all."

There was a pause. What was he thinking? Her biggest fear was that bringing up the fact he would never have a child would just upset him, and she had already hurt him enough for one lifetime.

"Is this some kind of secret assignment from Dr Wyatt?"

"No, actually. This is me." Another silence. "Can you say something else please?"

He ran a hand through his hair, obviously struggling to find a response. "I just... Don't you know how much you mean to me? After all this, after giving up 'my dream' for you – don't you get it, Cristina? If that had meant more to me than you, I would have just left."

He stepped towards her and gently held her shoulders in his hands, gazing straight into her eyes. "I love you. You are enough for me, and you always will be."

Despite his heartfelt words, Cristina shook her head, frustrated that he didn't understand what she was getting at. "I can't just be enough for you though, Owen. There must be things you want to achieve, things you want to do besides just working and being married to me for the next forty years."

"Um, it's no longer forty," he corrected, and she had to smile. "And I happen to like being married to you. I don't know if you've noticed, but recently we've been discussing that a lot."

"I know- "

"Then stop it. Stop doubting me and how I feel about you, okay?"

She pouted, feeling suitably chastised but standing by her plan. "Okay. I still want you to think about my assignment though. You know what happens when you do all your homework..."

Her reference to their last assignment from Dr Wyatt wasn't lost on him, and he smiled as he pulled her into his arms. "I get an A plus and a gold star?"

"You get whatever you want," she murmured before drawing his mouth down onto hers for a kiss, unconcerned about their surroundings.

She felt so much better having gotten that off her chest; she just hoped he would take her seriously and let her try to make him as happy as she could for the rest of their lives. Because despite their problems, despite his infidelity and how it had crushed her, she wanted to be the best wife in the world to this man who had loved her through the hardest of times.

And if there was one thing Cristina Yang was good at, it was being the best.

* * *

"Morning."

Meredith looked up as Cristina entered the Fellows' locker room, which was otherwise empty, then found herself narrowing her eyes.

"Hey. You seem... happy."

Cristina shrugged, still smiling. "I get to crack chests, put patients on bypass, salvage calf veins and sew them onto hearts. I get to be a surgeon again, Mer. I am so freakin' excited!"

Meredith smiled back but she wasn't convinced that was the whole story. When had she last seen Cristina so bouncy in the morning? And then it came to her.

"You've been having sex."

"What?" Cristina stared at her friend, halfway through putting her scrub top on.

"Who's been having sex?" Alex, as ever, had chosen his moment to enter the room.

"Not you, obviously," Cristina shot at him. "How _is_ the hot redhead anyway? I still haven't had a thank you for setting you two up."

"None of your business." Alex dropped his bag onto the bench and began to strip off his clothes. He tried not to think of Erika; of how she had looked in her underwear when they had gotten changed at the same time a few days earlier; of how much he was attracted to her, could barely get her off his mind. She was beautiful, yes, but it was more than that: she was nice to him.

God, he must be such an asshole if he was attracted to a woman just because she was _nice_ to him.

"Anyway," he said, trying to divert attention away from himself, "We were talking about you, Yang."

"Who said we were?"

"I did," Meredith said. "You strutted in here, and you're all shiny and... happy."

She was trying to work out how she felt about this news. She remembered the last time she and Cristina had discussed her sex life, when Cristina and her husband had clearly been using all kinds of dirty sex to avoid talking about the abortion.

And that had ended _so_ well.

Meredith hoped they weren't doing the same thing now, evading all their problems – like the fact Owen had slept with another woman, for starters – but it didn't seem like the right time to talk about it with Alex there, and they were already late for rounds.

As if on cue, however, Alex stuffed his bag and clothes into a locker and hurried off with a quick, "Later." Meredith knew that with her sporadic contact with Cristina over the last few weeks, this might be her only chance to raise the subject.

"Cristina," she said hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

"Is everything okay?"

Cristina stopped midway through tying her hair up, her arms still in the air. "Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"

"You and Owen are having sex again."

Cristina sighed. "So? Why is it not okay for me to have sex with my husband?"

"I just... Isn't it a bit soon? Does it mean you've forgiven him? Because I don't think- "

Seeing the anger flash across Cristina's face, she realized she had gone too far.

"Meredith. Shut up. I mean it." Her voice was low and serious. "I don't care what you do or don't think."

"But he- "

"There are two people in my marriage, Mer, and you're not one of them."

"I am your friend though," Meredith protested. "You should be able to talk to me about this."

"And I would - if you were impartial." The words hung in the air as Cristina took a step towards her. "We can't discuss this because I know how you feel about Owen. I know you think he's some kind of monster whose crimes are so unforgivable I should walk away and never look back.

"But I am not going to stand here and explain to you all over again why I love him and why we are fighting for something you obviously don't understand. I am done talking about this with you. We're done."

Meredith bristled, feeling chastised. "I only care about you, Cristina."

"I know that. So why can't you want what I want? Why can't you trust my judgement about the man who you've hardly bothered to get to know over the last four years?"

It was difficult to defend herself from that accusation and with a horrible, shameful sinking feeling, Meredith knew she had a point. "I'm sorry." It was all she could say, and she was aware that it wasn't enough.

"If this was you and Derek," Cristina said softly, "I would have fought your corner to the death. I have, actually, on more than one occasion. And now you think you're fighting mine but actually, it's your own. So please, just stop it. Okay?"

And with that she walked out, leaving Meredith feeling like the worst friend in the entire world.

* * *

Alex was sitting behind the nurses' station, printing off his patients' latest lab results, when he saw Erika approaching with a big smile on her face. "Hey," she said as she reached him.

"Hey." It seemed he couldn't stop himself smiling either. "What are you doing here?"

"I snuck off from rounds," she admitted guiltily. "I just got a call from my Realtor to say my offer has been accepted. I have a house!"

"Congratulations. That's great."

"And, I was wondering... Do you want to go out for a drink tonight to celebrate?"

It seemed to take his brain an unusually long time to process her words. "Er... Yeah. Okay."

His surprise made him sound uncertain, but she either didn't notice or didn't mind because her smile only widened. "Don't look so alarmed. I don't bite," she teased, and he found himself relax instantly.

Erika Chamberlain was so disarming; he could barely keep track of his thoughts or emotions when she was around.

"Anyway, I should get back," she said cheerfully when it became clear he wasn't going to say anything else. "I'll meet you in the locker room after our shifts."

With that she disappeared, and Alex didn't have a second to think about what had just happened because Michael Zimmerman had taken her place in front of the desk. "Ah, good morning Dr Karev. Are those the lab results of our six-month-old in room 2206?"

"Yes, Sir. They look good, and she hasn't spiked a temperature since yesterday morning."

"No doubt because you noticed the early signs and started antibiotics so quickly. That was a good call, Alex."

As usual, such an open compliment unsettled him. "It was nothing, really. She just didn't seem herself."

Michael shook his head. "Don't put yourself down like that. Spotting a central line infection so early is no small feat. Most residents and fellows I've worked with wouldn't have noticed that until the baby's obs started to climb up the chart. You're a great doctor, Alex. I've heard it from Dr Hunt and a friend at Johns Hopkins. And I am certain I would have heard it from Arizona Robbins too. Keep up the good work."

He clapped him on the shoulder as he made to leave. "I'll see you in the OR at twelve for this pyloromyotomy, yes? I hope you know your stuff, you'll be taking the lead."

Alex didn't know how long he sat there in disbelief before a nurse asked him to move. In the last five minutes, Erika had decided she wanted to hang out with him despite his history of bad behavior around her and Dr Zimmerman had pretty much told him that he believed in him, something he had only ever heard from Dr Robbins before.

Michael would never replace her - and he wasn't trying to - but Alex couldn't help feeling that, as mentors went, he had been incredibly fortunate.

* * *

Cristina couldn't remember the last time she had felt such a high from operating. It wasn't a complicated surgery and didn't particularly test her but that didn't matter: from the first incision Rachel had just stood back, assisting when needed but allowing Cristina to make every decision and every stitch, and that was what gave her such a buzz. It was reminiscent of Teddy's early mentoring, but this time Cristina had more confidence and no doubts whatsoever that Rachel Zimmerman would never be interested in stealing Owen. For a start, she was about fifteen years older than him, and she genuinely seemed one of the nicest people Cristina had ever met.

"Seriously good job, Cristina," Rachel said as they left the OR and headed back toward the cardio wing. "I've never seen a fellow work so quickly or so neatly. You just made my move across the country all the more worth it."

Cristina was stunned by this admission. "Wow. Thank you so much, Dr Zimmerman."

"Rachel, please," she insisted. "You're not a resident any more, Cristina. And seeing as we're going to be working together so much once our lab is up and running, you can't keep saying that mouthful. I used to be Rachel Woods," she confided with a smile. "So much simpler. Now you - you kept your name. I like that. Cristina Yang. It's very you."

Cristina didn't know what to say to that. When she and Owen had gotten married it hadn't been a question in her mind; nor his, as far as she was aware. Whether she took his name or remained Dr Yang, she would always be the same wife and love him just as much, so what did it matter? Besides, Yang was the last connection she had to her father and she knew Owen would never have expected her to give that up.

"Shall we get a coffee?" Rachel suggested, interrupting her thoughts. "I don't know about you but I need about five cups a day to survive."

Cristina agreed and they changed direction to loop back toward the hospital foyer.

"Michael has just started drinking green tea." Rachel made a face and Cristina's opinion of her shot up even further. "It's awful. The first thing I unpacked in the new house was my espresso machine - I couldn't live without it."

"Me either. Are you both settling in alright?"

"Well, the renovations on the house are well under way so we have no kitchen, just a tiny refrigerator, a microwave and a table covered in cans of soup which is all we seem to eat. And as of last week we have no floors to speak of, and I feel like I'm permanently covered in a layer of dust."

"Tell me about it. Owen renovated our whole house – it was derelict when we moved in."

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "He did it all alone? How did he find time?"

"Well he wasn't Chief then." She thought about it for a moment. "Actually, I don't really know how he did it. He just did it in the evenings and at weekends. Sometimes I'd come home when he'd had a day off and an entire room would have been ripped apart and put back together again." She suddenly felt immensely proud of her husband and vowed to tell him later. "Anyway, it's great now. Perfect."

Rachel sighed as they reached the elevators. "I am so envious. I can't wait to go home to a clean, tidy house where I can have a real shower and cook a decent meal."

"I'm sure it'll all be worth it," Cristina tried to reassure her mentor as they entered the elevator, but had the sudden nagging feeling that she was supposed to say something else. She frowned to herself, aware that her silence was becoming awkward in the small space, until her brain eventually kicked into action.

"Oh. Um... you should both come over for dinner one night." She cringed as her words sounded as uncertain as she felt. The idea of asking people round for a dinner party was a foreign one and she wasn't sure she had ever contemplated it in the past, let alone actually extended the invitation. But then again, she already liked Rachel a lot more than most colleagues she had worked with, and she thought Owen would be pleased that she had taken the initiative and offered to help them out.

Rachel didn't seem to have noticed the unusual delivery of the invite, however. "That sounds lovely," she said sincerely. "It would be really good to get to know you both better. As long as it's not too much trouble?"

"No," Cristina found herself saying breezily, as if she did this kind of thing all the time. "No trouble at all. Maybe next week?"

"Great, I look forward to it," Rachel smiled. "Then we can return the favor when our house is all finished."

Cristina tried to return the smile but ended up having to hide her look of terror behind a long drink of her coffee. Out of nowhere she had committed herself and her husband to two dinner parties when they had never even hosted one together before. She had no idea if he even liked them, or if he was as hesitant about them as she.

There wasn't much time to dwell on it, however, as they had a whole list of patients to review before their next surgery, and before long all thoughts of table decorations and making awkward small talk had vanished from her mind.

* * *

"Come in."

Owen looked up from his paperwork as Derek entered the conference room, closing the door behind him.

"Hey, stranger." He stood up to shake Derek's good hand with a smile. "Long time no see. How's the injury?"

"Oh, a little better." The two men took their seats again. "I've just spoken to Greg Anders again. He wants to try a nerve graft, and I feel like that's a good step."

"Greg is a great surgeon," Owen agreed. "It's a shame Mark isn't fit though. I think he has the edge."

But Derek just laughed. "You think I'd let Mark Sloan fix my hand? I'd be in his debt for the rest of my life, and he would remind me every single day."

"Very true. Well, you seem better than when we spoke on the phone the other day."

"Yeah. I was being a bit of a selfish prick before. I let Meredith down and now I'm trying to make it up to her."

Owen glanced down at his hands as Derek's words hit home. "Tell me about it." He met his friend's gaze again, suddenly struck with the urge to confide him. It was an unusual sensation – he hated talking about his personal life, especially that of late – but he got the feeling Derek would be a good listener.

"Everything okay?" Derek asked, obviously noticing something in his expression.

Owen took a deep breath in and out. "A few months ago," he began haltingly, "I, um... I cheated. On Cristina."

God, he felt so ashamed of himself, but Derek was just looking at him steadily and he could see no trace of judgement in his expression. "It was just once," Owen continued, unable to stop defending himself, "And I was unbelievably drunk."

"What was your real reason, though?" Derek asked evenly. If Meredith had already mentioned all this to him, he didn't let on.

"What?"

"Being drunk is an excuse for cheating, not a reason." He tilted his head ever so slightly to one side. "There's always a reason."

Owen knew he could sit there for hours explaining everything that had led him to that point, so instead he just said simply: "I was hurting. After the abortion, when everything went to hell between us. I was _so_ mad at her." The memory of his anger still made his heart rate rise. "But I just ended up mad at myself."

He sighed heavily. "It was such a stupid thing to do. I don't think I'll ever be able to shake the guilt."

"But you're still together?"

"Yeah. We're in therapy and it's going well."

Derek leaned forward slightly; it seemed it was a day for confessions. "When I first came to Seattle I was still married to my ex-wife. We weren't together, but I was seeing Meredith for months before Addison appeared and found out. We'd broken up because I caught her sleeping with Mark- "

"I remember," Owen interjected.

"Right. So I know it's not the same situation by a long way, but I didn't handle it well. I chose Addison, even though I knew I didn't love her. And then when I went back to Meredith, I just didn't try hard enough to make it up to her." He ran his hand through his hair.

"What I'm saying is, nothing is ever black and white. But you have to try really hard to put it right. Try everything, and don't give up. It took us years to be happy and I love her all the more for it."

Owen registered his words, feeling a little overcome. Derek's lack of judgement and willingness to accept that life was impossibly complicated were two things Owen knew he would always be grateful for. "Does the guilt ever go away?"

Derek smiled. "That depends on what type of person you are, I guess. It certainly lessens over time. I remember letting everything go when we got Zola - a fresh start for all of us."

"And now you're here in my office, trying to start over again?" Owen joked and Derek laughed, instantly lightening the mood.

"Something like that, which is what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Job options?"

"Yes." Derek paused for a second, steadying himself before his next words. "I think you should hire a new head of neuro. I won't be operating again for at least a year, maybe even longer. It's just a waste of your money if you keep paying me and a locum tenens."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

Owen nodded. While he was upset for his friend facing the possible end of his career, from a business point of view letting Derek Shepherd go for just a year was much more preferable than losing him to Harvard forever. "I can hire someone on a twelve-month contract and then see how you're doing."

"Great, that is much appreciated. In the meantime," he went on, "I'd like to get more involved in teaching. Maybe a couple of seminars a week?"

"No problem at all. I've been hearing from your department that the new fellows could do with some extra help."

"Wow, this is easier than I thought," Derek admitted and Owen smiled. "I also wanted to ask you if there's anything else I can help out with - admin jobs and such. Do you need another secretary?"

Owen raised his eyebrows at this unusual request. "Do you _want_ to be my secretary?"

"Not really," Derek chuckled. "It'd be like being President, stepping down and then getting a job as his personal secretary. And no, I did not just liken you to the President," he added quickly as Owen began to laugh.

"Right. Well, I'll see what I can do, although I thought you loathed all of this?" He gestured to the table in front of him which was covered in spreadsheets and budget plans.

"I did. I hated it. But I think both Meredith and I will feel better if I'm not sitting at home all day feeling sorry for myself."

"Richard mentioned Mark is coming to stay with you when he's discharged. That sounds like a good idea."

"Yeah, I think so. Callie is visiting Arizona's parents for a couple of weeks with Sofia, and they were all that were keeping him going. We couldn't let him go home to an empty apartment."

Owen sighed. So many lives were ruined in that plane crash, so many of his friends devastated both physically and forever. If ever there was a reason to follow Derek's advice and try harder than ever before, that was it.

"Hey, you should come over one night and watch some sports with us," Derek suggested. "Meredith and Cristina can drink tequila and dance around upstairs, or whatever it is that those two do when they're together."

Owen smiled, but it turned into more of a grimace. "I don't think they're really speaking at the moment. Has Meredith said anything?"

"No, and I don't ask. The Twisted Sisters are a law unto themselves."

"Remember when we all treated that death row patient and they almost killed each other _and_ him?"

"Yeah, that was hellish," Derek agreed. "Maybe I should suggest to Meredith that she goes to watch another execution? That's what it took last time for them to make up."

"Give it a few more weeks and I might take you up on that," Owen smiled. Then he found himself feeling more solemn again. "Can I ask you something? How do you cope with the whole 'person' thing? Does Meredith discuss things with Cristina but not you?"

He felt weak for admitting that his wife didn't always confide in him, but he had to know, to hear any advice Derek could give him. At this point he had already shared more than he'd intended to and he wondered absently if Dr Wyatt would be pleased when they went for their appointment later that day.

"You know," Derek replied thoughtfully, "It hadn't bothered me for a while, but recently Meredith was trying to base her decision about fellowships on where Cristina was going to be. That was a bit ridiculous, and she eventually realized. I do think, though, that it just isn't in Cristina's nature to open up. I doubt it's anything to do with you; she's probably been like that her whole life. And there will have been times when she's turned to you and not Meredith. You probably just didn't realize it."

Owen cast his mind back, thinking about points in their relationship when he knew Cristina had run straight to him: the day she got upset about her father; the aftermath of the shooting and throughout her PTSD; the news of her pregnancy. It was a short but not insignificant list, and he instantly felt a little better – but not enough to stop him hating the concept, which once again reminded him just how incredibly glad he was to have adopted Meredith's former title.

"Anyway, I have to go," Derek said, interrupting his reverie. "Appointment with my physical therapist in five. I've got some muscles to re-engage. Are you stuck in here all afternoon?"

Owen shook his head as they both got to their feet. "No, I'm headed back to the ER to do some teaching with Kepner. I feel like I let her down last year."

"Come on," Derek said doubtfully, "Being Chief is hard work. Just make sure you get some time in the OR every now and then."

"I'll try. Good to see you, Shepherd."

"You too." He paused near the door. "Can I just say one thing before I go? Cristina is the most determined person I've ever met. If she wants something, she will get it. Remember that, when things aren't going so well."

It wasn't until he had sat back down that Owen truly caught the wisdom behind those words.

_Cristina wants this marriage to work, and what Cristina wants... she makes sure she gets. _

That was the very first moment Owen knew, with certainty, that they were going to be alright.

* * *

"I hear you're leaving us at last," Richard said cheerfully as he entered Mark's hospital room. The younger man was sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to the door, fully dressed, staring out of the window over the parking lot.

He turned and managed a small smile. "I won't miss this view."

"No." Richard walked around the bed and perched beside him. "How are you doing?"

It was a few moments before Mark answered. "Physically, I feel okay."

Richard waited a beat, expecting him to continue, but what he didn't say spoke volumes.

"Emotionally not so good, huh?" More silence, but he wasn't surprised. "I wish I could tell you it gets better, but it never really does. I lost both of the women I loved to the most devastating disease. Now Ellis Grey is gone and Adele doesn't recognize me, and some mornings I lie in bed and wonder how I'm going to make it through the day."

His gaze was fixed on the horizon through the window but he was aware of Mark turning to glance at him. "And how do you?"

Richard looked at him; saw the agony in his gaze and felt his heart go out. "Routine. Get up, shower, eat breakfast. Get to work. Take pleasure in friends, patients, surgeries, teaching. Plan your evenings so you don't end up alone every night."

"Sounds like a lot of effort," Mark muttered.

"Everything does, doesn't it? But it's something you learn, like a new surgical procedure. It's terrifying for a long time, and then one day you look back and realize you've been doing it just fine for a while."

Richard wished he could offer more hope but he just couldn't let himself give anything other than brutal honesty. When Ellis was diagnosed, he'd had no one to turn to: he kept his visits secret from both Adele and Meredith as he watched such a brilliant woman fall apart right in front of him. And then later, when Adele began to deteriorate, he was terrified and even more alone, denying to himself and to everyone else that there was problem until his wife just disappeared before his eyes.

There had been many a time during those years when he had longed for someone to come along and tell him what was going to happen - not to sugar-coat the future but to prepare him for handling the heartbreak, the often-insurmountable grief. He would never know what was worse: losing Ellis and Adele to Alzheimer's so that they were there physically but no longer mentally, emotionally, which was arguably harder on the sufferer; or losing someone suddenly, when they were so young, and being left behind to mourn them for the next forty or fifty years.

Either way, he felt like he owed it to himself to be there for Mark now, to try and share some of the things he had learned from his losses.

"The best advice I can offer," he said quietly, "Is to give yourself time off from grieving. You want to think about her all the time, and when you realize that your mind has wandered you feel guilty; scared that you're forgetting her already. Am I right?"

Mark looked a little taken aback. "One hundred percent," he murmured. "Even now, listening to you, I feel like I should be thinking about her instead."

Richard smiled sympathetically and put his hand on Mark's shoulder. "I've found it's the most difficult thing to do," he admitted. "Remembering is hard, but trying to stop yourself from remembering and move on with your life is even harder. I think staying with Meredith and Derek will help you with that, and concentrating on raising your daughter with Callie. Draw strength from everyone around you as often as you can; let them distract you from grieving for a few hours a day. Do new things, but come back to work as soon as you feel you're able to.

"And don't worry that you'll forget her – that's just impossible." As he spoke, memories of both Ellis and Adele flooded his mind. "Years from now you will still be able to see her face, to hear her laugh, to remember how she felt in your arms. You never forget the people you truly love. Never."

Mark was staring out of the window again, no doubt recalling memories of his own, but Richard was satisfied he had said his peace. "Good luck, Mark. I hope I'll see you around again very soon."

He stood up to leave and was almost at the door when he heard a shaky reply.

"Thank you, Chief. I hope so too."

* * *

Owen met Cristina in the cardio wing so they could arrive at their therapy appointment together. She had just got out of her second surgery and the only word that he could think of to describe her was 'buzzing'.

"But the third part of the saphenous vein was too fragile," Cristina was recounting a hundred miles an hour, "So I had to go for an internal thoracic artery – bearing in mind we're already on bypass at this point, and I've only done it twice before – but Dr Z– I mean, Rachel told me to just go for it and so I dissected the–"

"Woah, woah," Owen interrupted, laughing, as they reached Dr Wyatt's waiting room. His wife was as excited as a small child and while it was adorable, they both needed to be in the right frame of mind for their therapy sessions. "Calm down. You can tell me the rest later."

They were already running a little late and the receptionist ushered them straight through.

"Hello Owen, Cristina," Dr Wyatt smiled as they entered at took their seats on the couch. Her expression turned to one of curiosity as she visually appraised them. "You both seem in good spirits today."

"Cristina was just telling me about her first day back in the operating room," Owen said apologetically, feeling like he needed to explain.

"I see. So it went well, I presume?"

Even after weeks of therapy, Cristina felt nervous under the psychiatrist's gaze. "Yes, very well." _Thank you, Ma'am, _she added unconsciously.

"Do you always share the details of your day with him?"

"Um... Yes, I suppose so. We usually talk about our surgeries on the way home or over dinner."

"And do you feel that sharing your successes with Owen validates your work?"

Dr Wyatt was really surpassing herself at getting straight into the deep stuff today. Cristina thought about it for a long, long moment. She definitely enjoyed telling him what she had achieved and he was always eager to listen. But did it validate her work? Did she get more pleasure from operating when she talked to him about it afterwards?

And the answer to that, she realized suddenly, was yes. She would never have considered the issue had Dr Wyatt not confronted her with it, but actually it was one of the things she had really missed when they were separated: finishing a procedure on such a high but knowing that as soon as she left the hospital, she was all alone with her success. Seeing her happy and animated in the evenings always made him smile and when they weren't speaking to one another and the apartment was silent, she had longed for the days when she could have that instant effect on him.

"You know what, I think it does," she said slowly, gazing at Owen as this revelation took hold. He looked as surprised as she felt.

"I did miss hearing all about your day when weren't together," he admitted. "Your passion for cardio still astounds me. It makes me more passionate about medicine too."

Cristina registered his words but her mind was still busy processing everything. "I enjoyed today more than I have in a long time, and I don't think that's just because of Rachel." She reached for his hand and squeezed it, looking seriously into his eyes. "You make surgery more exciting for me. I will always love it... but you give it an edge."

Owen didn't know what to say. She had always been so focused on her career, and he had always known that and admired her for it. Whenever she wanted to miss a date or a special occasion to scrub in on a surgery, he would let her because that _was_ her, and he loved her and wanted her to be the very best she could be. He had never thought of it as him coming second because he had never known any different with her. Right at the start of their relationship, she had seen him for the man he had become after the war, and he'd seen her too – a driven, ruthless surgeon who wanted to fix hearts because, as a nine-year-old child, she had been unable to fix the most important one of all.

They may not have discussed certain crucial issues before committing themselves to marriage, but he couldn't complain about feeling inferior to her work because he had acknowledged her drive and ambition almost as soon as they met.

Now however, hearing her admit that his presence made her enjoy surgery even more felt like the most wonderful gift; like something he never knew he needed until it was right there in front of him.

"I can't believe you just said that," he told her softly. "I never expected to hear it. I didn't _need_ to hear it."

"I can't believe it either," she smiled, her gaze not leaving his. "But it's true. When I'm the best cardiothoracic surgeon in the country, it won't be half as great if you're not there to share it with me."

Dr Wyatt gave them a few moments before interjecting. "That's quite a revelation, Cristina. I know how committed you are to your career but it bodes well that you are starting to see Owen as integral to that. It's definitely a big step in your relationship. I'm impressed."

"So am I," Cristina said honestly. "I feel like we're doing really well. We're talking a lot, even about things we would have avoided before."

She went on to explain the conversation where she had asked Owen if he was worried about the upcoming sterilization, which turned into in a recap of that situation and more assurances from him to Dr Wyatt that he was happy with the decision.

"I know it's a bore to keep talking about it," she told them after a lengthy discussion where they basically just covered old ground, "But it's the only way to make sure you're not sweeping things under the rug."

"We're not," Owen reassured her.

"I can see that," Dr Wyatt agreed. "It seems like you are definitely communicating more freely. Even your body language is better." They both looked down, realizing they were still holding hands.

"But I'm not going to let you getting too complacent just yet," she warned. "You've come a long way but there's still further to go."

"We know," Cristina said, squeezing her husband's hand. "We're committed to this."

Owen smiled at her. When they were truly together on something, he knew they wouldn't fail. "Bring it on."

* * *

"Wait, say that again." Mark looked and sounded incredulous. "You offered to be Hunt's secretary? As in, Chief of Surgery Owen Hunt? The job that you used to do?"

Derek nodded, laughing. "I offered to be his secretary."

"Jesus. What the hell were you thinking?"

"He was thinking that his family needed him to get up off his ass at last," Meredith answered, entering the sitting room from the kitchen. She handed both men a plate of beef noodles. "Sorry it's not more nutritious, Mark."

"Don't worry. I've been craving decent food for weeks."

They had only been home for about an hour but already his spirits seemed to be on the rise - anything had to be better than being stuck in a hospital room 24/7, especially one which had become so full of Lexie he could barely stand another second of it.

Meredith's mood, however, had gone in the opposite direction ever since her fight with Cristina that morning. "Is everything okay?" Derek asked her a little while later as they cleaned up in the kitchen, leaving Mark watching baseball.

She sighed heavily, suddenly finding she was blinking back tears. "I think I've been a bad friend to Cristina. A really, really bad friend." And then she was crying into his chest, months of tension and pain pouring out.

Cristina had been her rock for years and years, unfaltering in her support and advice. Whenever Meredith had a problem, be it work- or home-related, Cristina was always on her side - _always_. And yet somehow, Meredith had failed to do the same in return. She had failed Cristina when she had been going through hell, and it was not good enough.

"I've let her down so badly," she said shakily. "I don't even know how to start making it up to her."

"Apologize," he suggested calmly, "And mean it. Where is this all coming from, anyway? I knew you weren't really seeing much of each other but I had no idea it was this bad."

She wiped her eyes but couldn't stop the tears from coming. "It's Owen."

Derek frowned. "What?"

She took a deep breath, already knowing what his answer would be. "Do you think he's good for her?"

"Yes, of course he is," Derek said without hesitation. "He told me all about it earlier today, in fact. He did a stupid thing but it doesn't make him a bad person. Everyone makes mistakes, Meredith. Look at you and me, we've made more than anyone else I know."

"Oh god." She started to cry again. "I've been so awful to them both."

Over the sound of her own sobs she gradually became aware that Zola had woken up and was upset as well.

"I'll go," Derek offered but Meredith stopped him.

"No, let me. It'll give me time to think about what the hell I'm going to do next. You go keep Mark company."

"Okay." He pulled her into another tight embrace. "You'll figure it out with Cristina – you always do."

"I hope so. I miss her."

She left to go comfort Zola and Derek put his elbows down heavily on the counter and rested his forehead on his good hand. It had been a very weird day – far too emotional for his liking – and with Mark to keep entertained, it was probably going to be a long, draining evening as well.

* * *

"Now Owen," Dr Wyatt said, "I want to ask you something in light of what Cristina revealed at the start of the session. Does it ever bother you that your wife doesn't wear her wedding ring?"

It was an unexpected change of direction and while he paused to think about it, she continued to speak. "It's very unusual for a woman not to wear a ring, even a doctor. Men yes, but women not so much."

He glanced at Cristina, wondering what she was thinking, but she just looked intrigued to hear his answer. "I haven't thought about it in a long time. She said when we got married that she wouldn't wear a ring."

"Wedding rings are more than just a piece of jewellery though. They symbolize the bond between you; your unity. Often when people get divorced they don't take them off for years afterwards, that's how special they are."

"It's not that I don't think they're special," Cristina jumped in, feeling the need to defend herself. "I keep mine next to our bed. I'm just not a ring person. Owen knows that."

He nodded in confirmation, but a tiny part of him had taken Dr Wyatt's words onboard: _They symbolize the bond between you; your unity. _

"Owen?" she asked.

"I do think our rings are special and I wouldn't stop wearing mine, but I don't think it's an issue. I've never expected Cristina to wear her ring in the same way I never expected her to change her name."

"Hey," Cristina interrupted, "That came up earlier. Rachel commented on it." Then she remembered what else she had to tell Owen.

"I invited her and her husband over for dinner, actually."

He blinked, taken aback. "What?"

Beneath Owen's surprised expression and Dr Wyatt's intimidating gaze, she suddenly panicked that she had done the wrong thing by not running it past her husband first. Were they not supposed to making an effort to communicate?

"They're having their house renovated," she said defensively, but her voice was quiet, her earlier anxieties about the idea returning. "I thought I'd offer to help them out. Is that okay with you?"

Owen smiled then, apparently over his initial shock. "Of course it is. It'll be nice to get to know them better. I'm actually impressed that you thought to invite them."

"So am I," she confessed, unable to contain her own relieved smile. "We can serve take out pizza at a dinner party, right?"

"Er... How about we discuss the menu some other time?"

Their smiles faded, however, as they glanced across at Dr Wyatt who was looking more solemn than usual. "I don't want to ruin your plans, but you might want to think carefully about this," she said gravely. "Hosting a dinner for new friends will undoubtedly lead to a lot of difficult questions. They will inquire about your lives, your marriage and quite probably the possibility of children. Are you ready to handle those kinds of questions?"

"I... don't know," Owen admitted. "I would have to think about what I was going to say beforehand."

"An excellent idea," Dr Wyatt confirmed. "If you do decide to go ahead – and I'm not suggesting that you don't, just that you give it thorough consideration – rehearsing the answers to those sorts of questions is vital."

Cristina looked despondent. "I'm sorry. I should never have mentioned it to her. I just thought it was a nice thing to do."

"Don't be sorry." Owen moved along the couch and put his arm around her. "I am really proud of you for asking. We'll be fine, I promise."

"Okay." She gazed up at him, wishing they were anywhere else so she could kiss him and hold him tightly.

"I think that's nearly time," Dr Wyatt said finally. "We've covered some good ground today. I'm very pleased with how you're coming along and communicating, but remember what I said about the hard work not being over. Life has a funny way of pulling the rug out from under us when we least expect it, as you both know."

They said their goodbyes and headed back to the locker room. As ever, their session had left them with a lot to contemplate but as he sat and watched his wife get changed, the thing at the forefront of Owen's mind was her admission that he was what made her career truly great. It was as close as she would ever get to saying that their relationship trumped surgery, and the next thing he knew he was on his feet, taking her in his arms and kissing her with all the emotion inside of him. Her small hands quickly found their way into his hair and the way she whimpered set his blood on fire.

"I love you," he breathed, his lips barely leaving hers. "You are so precious to me."

Their gazes locked for the briefest of seconds before they were kissing again, holding each other as close as possible. It was desperate and raw, not about sex or lust but love; about conveying everything they felt that just couldn't translate into words.

"I meant it," Cristina murmured at length as their kisses slowed and they both tried to catch their breath. She obviously knew exactly what he had been thinking about before. "Three, four months ago, I convinced myself that surgery was enough for me, but how can it be?"

She ran her fingertips down his jaw, studying his face. "You mean the world to me, Owen. You always have."

"I am so sorry that I hurt you," he whispered, unable to stop himself. "I am going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you and that starts today. Right now."

He kissed her again. "Let's go for a drink. Champagne if you want it, I don't care. I want to toast us; to celebrate you and how beautiful you are."

Cristina couldn't help but smile despite the tears in her eyes. "Okay." She held him tightly, pressing her face into his chest inhaling deeply.

Dr Wyatt might have said they had a long way to go but right now, she was more than content staying just where they were.

* * *

Derek grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and headed back into the living room where the game had nearly finished. Mark was staring at the screen, his eyes unfocused, and Derek knew exactly what he was thinking about.

"You know, when my dad died, I spent hours looking just like you do now."

Mark turned to him as he sat down. "Like what?"

"A zombie. The living dead."

"I remember that. It was a good look for you. And thanks for the sympathy," he added, but there was no malice behind it.

"Do you want sympathy?"

"No, not really."

"I didn't think so." They both managed a smile and Derek realized how much he had missed his friend. "Here, have a beer. I bet you've not seen one of these in a while."

"That's because my supplier was lousy," Mark muttered, referring to the weekly packages of food, drink and various magazines Derek had taken in.

"Apologies. I didn't realize they were encouraging alcohol in ICU nowadays."

They both took a drink and turned their attention back to the game. After a few minutes, Derek noticed that Mark was fidgeting, ripping off the label on his beer bottle strip by strip.

"Do you wanna talk?" he asked tentatively.

Mark shook his head. "Not really." There was a short pause. "Actually, I do have one question."

"Fire away."

"You know how you mom was so... strong all the time? How did she do that?"

Derek had often asked himself the same question. "I honestly have no idea. I suppose it was having all us kids to look after, to keep her mind off of it."

Mark seemed pensive. "Richard came to visit me today. He said the same thing; that I should keep occupied and focus on Sofia and getting back to work as soon as possible."

"Wise words," Derek agreed.

"I've been here for what, a couple of hours tonight? And I've barely had chance to think about her."

"And?" Derek prompted. "How are you feeling?"

It took a long time for him to answer and when he did so, he seemed surprised at his own words. "Less drained, less lonely. I feel... okay." He looked his friend straight in the eye as if needing reassurance that this was allowed, or even possible.

Derek nodded subtly. "Good. That's really good. You need to give you brain a rest sometimes."

Mark actually managed another smile. "Coming from you, that must be sound advice." Then he sobered again. "I miss her the most at night. I dread having to try and go to sleep."

The sorrow in his voice was saddening and Derek could remember feeling exactly the same way after his father died. "I used to sleep with the light on," he said, picturing his old bedroom in New York. "Do you remember? Mom assumed it was because I was afraid of someone hiding in the dark with a gun, but actually I was afraid that it was Dad. When he was there, there was no way I could get to sleep."

He sighed, suddenly feeling very weary. "Night time is the worst time of day. Leave the light on and see if that helps. She can't haunt you so easily in the light."

When he went up to bed later that evening, Derek sent an email to his mother just saying hello. Then he wrapped Meredith in his arms and prayed to anyone who would listen that she would never be taken away from him.

* * *

"To my new house: a new beginning." Erika raised her wine glass and toasted Alex's beer across their table at Joe's.

"I'll drink to that," he agreed, taking a swig from his bottle. It felt like years since he'd been to a bar with a woman who wasn't Cristina or Meredith, and he was a little nervous. Fortunately though, Erika was already proving to be great at making conversation and not only did she ask questions, she was genuinely interested in hearing his replies. Often when he was out with his friends he felt like he was talking to a brick wall.

"Did you enjoy your internship and residency here?"

"Yeah, I guess." He thought about it for a moment. "Actually no, it mostly sucked. But I got here and that's what matters."

"Why did it suck?" She looked intrigued, her head cocked to the side, and for some reason Alex couldn't himself stop staring at her mouth.

"Five of us started out together as interns: Cristina, Meredith and I are the last ones standing. George was run over by a bus, and Izzie got metastatic melanoma. She's still alive though," he added as Erika's looked shocked. "Apparently. You'd think I of all people would know, seeing as she used to be my wife."

He shook his head sadly. "Anyway, now Lexie and Dr Robbins are gone too and... I miss them. All of them."

"You were close to Dr Robbins, right?"

"I guess so." Alex didn't know why he had gotten himself into this conversation when it was so damn depressing. "She made me want to do pediatrics; she really believed I could make it." He glanced down at his hands. "She was the only person who ever believed in me."

He wished that didn't sound so self-pitying but for some reason, Erika's reaction was to smile. "I don't believe you," she said earnestly. "How can that be true? You're such a nice guy and you seem to be respected by all the attendings I've met. I've only known you a short while but I already believe in your abilities as a doctor. Not sure I can comment on you as a person just yet though; you'll have to come back to me in another few months."

She nudged his arm, grinning, and for the second time that day he couldn't help but return her smile. Could she be any more perfect? Hot, smart, fun _and _she thought he was a good doctor. If Alex could remember what falling in love felt like, he would have realized that was exactly what he was doing right now.

"Do you want another drink?" he asked, noticing her glass was getting low but also needing to take a minute to calm himself down.

"Sure. The same, please."

As he neared the bar, he spotted the unmistakable outline of Cristina's hair and decided to head in her direction. She looked round and smiled at him – what was it with everyone being in such a good mood today?

"What are you doing here?" they asked in unison.

"You first," he conceded.

"I'm just here with Owen."

"So first sex, and now a drink? Isn't that the wrong way around?"

She shrugged. "Who cares? At least I get both."

There was a break in the conversation as they ordered their drinks from the bartender. "So who's the wine for?" Cristina asked, turning around to scan the room. "Please tell me it's the redhead."

"Erika," Alex corrected.

She looked impressed. "Wow. You asked her on a date at last? Good work, Evil Spawn."

But he had to shake his head. "She asked me actually, and I'm not sure it is a date. She just bought a house and wanted to celebrate, so..."

"Alex," Cristina interjected, "She asked you out to a bar – just the two of you. If she was really celebrating, she would've invited other people as well."

He had actually considered this himself but hadn't quite dared to believe it. "How do you know that?"

"I know everything. I'm Cristina." She might as well have added: "_Duh"._

They each paid for their drinks but before returning to their respective partners, she leaned towards him as if to say something confidential. "Don't blow this, Karev. At least not until after you've gotten her into bed. Trust me - once you've gone red, you'll never go back."

With that she walked away, leaving Alex wondering if he'd just imagined their whole conversation. "Is that Cristina?" Erika asked as soon as he got back to their table.

"Yeah." They both watched her walk back to her booth where she curled up next to her husband. He wrapped his arm around her and said something which made her giggle in a very un-Cristina like way.

"I didn't know she and Dr Hunt were a couple," Erika mused. "They look really cute together."

But Alex wasn't really listening. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." The way she smiled at him was so charming, so warm, that he began to wonder if Cristina had been right about her motives in bringing him here. Only one way to find out...

"You've been really nice to me, Erika, even though I'm usually a jerk."

"You're not- " she interrupted, but he stopped her.

"I am. I'm defensive, angry; difficult to get to know. And right now that's all magnified because of the fricking plane crash." He gazed at her lovely face, desperately trying to work her out. "Why do you care so much about me? Are you just some kind of saint?"

"I can't believe you have to ask that," Erika replied, placing her hand on his forearm. "Of course I'm not a saint, but you're not a jerk either. I really like you, Alex. Why is that so weird?"

He shrugged, though his heart was racing against his ribs. "People just don't like me. I'm not likeable; I never have been, even as a kid. Growing up the way I did, it was better to be hated, believe me. And I've been in relationships but I always end up getting screwed over: they either go crazy or leave or steal your job and go to Af- "

He stopped speaking then; he had to, because she had leaned forward and kissed him. For a few seconds he just sat there, frozen in disbelief. Fortunately, sense eventually kicked in and he pulled her closer, losing himself in the feel of her lips on his and her skin against his fingertips. When they broke apart, it was the first time he had ever seen her look shy.

"Sorry," she murmured with a small smile. "I just couldn't listen to you put yourself down any longer. Plus, I've kinda been wanting to do that for weeks."

"Me too."

Her hazel eyes widened. "Really?"

"Oh yeah." Alex found he was grinning, and that he couldn't stop. "You're beautiful, Erika. And you're such a great person; I've never met anyone like you. When I see you around the hospital, like this morning when you came to find me during rounds, it instantly makes my day better."

He noticed an adorable blush creeping up her cheeks. "I got into trouble for that," she confessed. "But I'd made up my mind to invite you for a drink tonight and didn't want to chicken out."

Alex frowned. "Wait, that whole 'I just bought a house' thing wasn't true?"

"No, no," Erika said hastily, "I really did buy a house today. But it was the perfect excuse to make the first move and ask you out."

He didn't know what to say to that, so instead he took the opportunity to kiss her again. He would never have envisaged his day ending like this in a million years – he felt like the luckiest man alive.

"I, um... How do we play this?" she asked tentatively a few moments later. She laced the fingers of one hand through his while the other raised her wine to her lips, her eyes never leaving his.

"Slowly," he suggested, and that seemed to be the right answer because she looked relieved. In the past he would have been more than eager to take a girl like Erika straight home to bed, but there was something very special between them that he instinctively knew needed time to grow.

"Can I make another toast?"

"Sure." He lifted his beer.

"To old friends and new adventures," she said, and then looked at him pointedly. "And to believing in yourself."

Alex laughed, and vowed right then to try his best to do just that.

* * *

"Karev's on a date," Cristina excitedly told her husband as she approached their table, passing him his beer before scooting up close to him.

"I noticed. I hope you talked up us gingers," he said, making her laugh.

"Of course."

He leaned in and kissed her cheek, her jaw. "Good girl."

She tilted her head back, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensation of his beard scratching her skin. She had missed this closeness, this effortless intimacy, more than she could say. When she looked at him again, his blue eyes were gazing lovingly at her.

"To you," he said, raising his glass.

"To us," Cristina corrected, toasting him with her vodka and cranberry. "To more than forty years."

He smiled. "So my first offer wasn't enough for you, huh?"

"No," she said simply. "Especially now that we've lost some time as well."

She didn't mean to darken the mood but fortunately Owen just continued to smile. "We can make that time up, no problem. We've already made a pretty good start."

"I know."

His reference to their rejuvenated sex life suddenly reminded her of Meredith's comments from that morning, where it was hurled at her like some kind of accusation, and she tried to smile but ended up sighing.

"What's the matter?" Owen frowned.

"Meredith and I... had a bit of a fight this morning." She stirred her drink, staring at the ice as it swirled around. "Apparently she thinks– Well, it doesn't matter what she thinks. That's the whole point."

Cristina didn't want to go into details of Meredith's apparent dislike for her husband. It was actually quite painful to think about for too long, and she was not going to ruin her evening ruminating over her so-called best friend's misguided, unwanted opinions.

Owen looked at her for a long moment, obviously sensing there was something more she wasn't telling him. Instead of pushing it though, he decided if it was important she would eventually confide in him, trusting that she had made enough progress throughout their therapy to know what she shouldn't keep to herself.

"I spoke to Derek earlier," he told her, changing the subject slightly. "He said he's going to try a nerve graft for his hand. He also asked me if I needed a secretary."

As intended, this made Cristina glance up incredulously at him. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. I said I'd think about it."

"Please say yes," she laughed. "That would be hilarious. I'm having visions of you standing over him in your Army fatigues, making him do push ups because he hasn't filed your paperwork the right way."

"That's... weird."

She shrugged. "Or hot. Whatever."

He smiled, but it was difficult to maintain. "I, um... ended up telling him about the cheating," he confessed, unable to look at the usual flicker of pain that briefly crossed her face whenever the subject of his infidelity came up. It was an unconscious reaction but a horrible reminder of how he had hurt her and how much further they still had to go. He knew that, in this way, it was probably a good thing - but in reality it was unbearable to witness.

"It wasn't a nice conversation, but it was cathartic in a way. He's actually a very good listener. I hope you don't mind that I told him."

"No," Cristina said truthfully. She knew how much courage it must have taken to admit to such a weakness, to the shame that she knew he felt every day. Plus, as Dr Wyatt so frequently pointed out, the more they talked about their issues, the easier it would be to overcome them both individually and together.

Owen studied her for a second, thinking about Derek's parting words to him that afternoon. They were so true that they made his heart pound in his chest. "You're so determined, aren't you? I've always loved that about you."

She was also either clever or psychic, as she seemed to know exactly what he was inferring. "I am determined to make our marriage work, yes." She turned so that she was facing him, bending one leg up onto the bench, and took his hand in both of hers. "I am determined to be the best wife to you; to show you how much I love you every day no matter how busy we are or whatever else is going on. I am determined–"

She had to swallow the lump in her throat. "To make sure we learn from all this. To make sure we come out better for it on the other side. To make the rest of our lives _worth_ all of this."

There were tears in both their eyes as Owen pulled her into his arms for a hug, burying his face in her hair. She had just summarized everything he felt in a way that he hadn't been able to before: going through difficult conversations and agonizing therapy sessions, adjusting their views on everything from children to dinner parties, was all going to be worth it in the end because it would give them a fresh start, on the same page, with no more hidden surprises.

It would give them their forty years, and then some.

"I haven't had chance to think about your assignment yet," Owen murmured, pulling back to look at her again, "But I can already tell you what my main answer is."

He brushed back an errant curl from her face, wanting to kiss her so badly. She was so beautiful he didn't know how he could possibly tell her often enough.

"The thing I want most of all from life is to be the best husband to you that I can be. I don't know how to do that, but I know how _not _to do it, so that's got to be half the battle right?"

Cristina laughed, wiping tears from beneath her eyes. "You're already most of the way there, believe me. Come here."

She kissed him, breathing in deeply, overwhelmed by emotion. He wasn't perfect, no, but then who was? Not Meredith or Alex, Derek or anyone else she knew, including herself. She was selfish, messy; she took him for granted, made her own decisions and paid the highest price.

But she was changing. And she was determined.

And he was the love of her life, so what else could she do?

* * *

_In the same way that surgeons must conquer complications to become truly great, relationships must overcome all sorts of challenges to thrive – and sometimes, to simply survive. When it feels like things can't possibly get worse, we have to persevere and take a moment to reflect: they will get better, and we will be wiser for it. It is not the easy times that define us but the most difficult ones of all; those that shape us today into who we will be tomorrow, and forever. So acknowledge the hard days for what they are, because it is impossible to truly appreciate the wonder of life and love if we have never known anything less than perfect. As Winston Churchill once said: "If you're going through hell, keep going." The view from the other side is totally worth it. _


	7. Turn The Page

A/N: I understand that the Meredith/Cristina friendship is a source of debate among the fandom at times. I personally did not set out to write this chapter so I could bash either character and show how one was more of a friend to the other, to contribute to the discussion of 'who's more important-husband or best friend' (I'm not sure why both can't be equally important and of value in the show and in real life...) or to minimize the importance of the M/C relationship when they are so clearly bonded and best friends and 'twisted sisters' no matter what viewers think or feel about the relationship. I wanted to write what I envisioned to be an honest discussion between Meredith and Cristina that was consistent with the events in this story and show how their relationship with one another has evolved to this point. Hopefully that came across here, if it didn't, I apologize. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. -princessxleah

* * *

_It used to be that only immediate family was allowed in a patient's hospital room: husband, wife, mother, father, brother, and sister. This rule excluded many people from visiting their loved ones: friends, life partners, 'he's like a brother to me', or someone's 'person'. Over time, the rule expanded and lessened in its strictness as to allow relationships that went beyond blood, beyond law, beyond any definition of 'family' that could be assigned by a hospital. Because for some people, the only ones they want around when they're at their worst are not necessarily the family they were born into, but the one that they chose to be a part of, the family that is now a part of them. _

* * *

"…And I wanted to get back and start getting ready to go back to work, be here for Mark. So I thought a week visiting Arizona's parents was enough for now. They're going to come out here in a month or so to come and visit," Callie explained to Cristina, pouring her another cup of coffee. "Owen, did you need a refill?"

"No, I'm fine." Owen was on the floor playing with Sofia, offering her one of her many stuffed animals while Cristina and Callie sat on the couch above them.

Cristina took a sip from her cup and glanced at her husband and goddaughter briefly before turning back to Callie. "You think you're ready to go back?"

Callie shrugged, draining her own cup and leaned her head on the couch, gazing at Sofia who was now crawling onto Owen's lap. "I don't know. I won't know until I actually do it." She looked at Cristina resignedly. "But I can't stay here forever, you know? It's time. I need to get back into the swing of things, Sofia needs her routine, and Mark…"

Callie sighed. "I don't know what Mark needs. Maybe I should wait and see how he's doing before I decide."

"Take as much time as you need." Owen looked up at them as he held Sofia. "If you need to extend your leave…"

"Thanks." Callie smiled wanly. "I hope Meredith and Derek bring Mark by soon. I want Sofia to see him before I put her down. I should probably start getting her ready."

Cristina met Owen's questioning look and she nodded slightly in response. She and Meredith hadn't spoken for the last couple of days since their argument in the locker room and she didn't want to deal with the awkwardness there when Callie and Mark had other things to deal with. "We'll get going, then."

"You afraid I might make you change diapers or something?"

It was reassuring for Cristina to hear Callie tease her and she had to smile at the bit of normalcy as they both got up from the couch. "I'm pretty sure that wasn't a part of the godmother agreement."

"Right." Callie rolled her eyes and reached out for Sofia where she was resting contentedly in Owen's arms. "Say good night, Sof. Owen and the Godmother of the Year have to go home."

"Good night, Sofia." Owen kissed the baby on her cheek and handed her to Callie. Cristina did the same and wrinkled her nose playfully to make Sofia laugh, unconsciously glancing in Owen's direction as she did. It had become a reflex to be aware of what Owen might be thinking or feeling when she had been around Sofia or Zola in recent weeks, but he seemed fine and he didn't seem to be outwardly dwelling on it at the moment. "Take care, Callie. Let us know if you need anything."

"Thank you. Both of you, for bringing dinner over and everything…" Callie rocked Sofia in her arms as she spoke to them. "It means a lot."

Cristina nodded at her friend in wordless understanding. "See you." Owen held open the door for her as they exited the apartment Callie and Cristina used to share and proceeded to go down the stairs. "Do you think she's ready to go back?"

"She seems to be better than she was." Owen shrugged but his eyes were filled with concern for their friend. "Maybe getting back into the game would be good for her. Get out of the apartment and away from the memories for a few hours a day…"

"Yeah." Cristina stopped short at the door to exit the building as it opened before she could go out, face to face with her best friend for the first time in two days. "Uh…"

"Uh…hi." Meredith seemed subdued but she also wasn't talking any more than necessary. "Were you guys just here to…"

"Visit Callie. Yeah." Cristina looked back at Owen who seemed reluctant to get involved. "We were just leaving."

"Sorry to miss you." Derek appeared just behind Meredith. "We had to drop off Zola with April before coming here." He held the door open to let in a tired-looking Mark. "We were just going to help him get set up and say hi to Callie."

"Hunt. Yang." Mark nodded at them and shook Owen's hand.

"You look good," Owen offered to Mark. "Do you guys need any help…?" He trailed off at Cristina's glare. "Uh…"

"We've got it," Derek assured them, glancing between Cristina and Meredith. "We'll see you later."

"Okay. I'll talk to you soon, Mark. And I'll see you both tomorrow." Owen tried to meet Cristina's eyes but she quietly avoided his, and Meredith's, stares. "Bye."

"Bye." Cristina's voice was abrupt as she made her way out of the building, Owen right behind her, so they could head to his truck.

"Well, that was…" Owen began, holding the truck door open for her.

"Pathetic? Painful? Like we were bad roommates?" Cristina deadpanned, flashing back to when Meredith had said those same words about interactions between Cristina and Owen.

Owen tried not to smile. "Yeah, it was pretty bad."

Cristina leaned back against the seat, sighing. She hated fighting with Meredith and it was unnatural to not be able to talk to her best friend about something or someone, especially when it was about someone as important to her and as much a part of her life as Owen was. This time, though, she needed Meredith to understand that she couldn't keep questioning Cristina and her decisions when it came to Owen and their marriage.

She needed Meredith to be her friend, but she didn't need Meredith's interfering when she and Owen were trying so hard to make it work.

"You okay?" Owen looked at her out of the corner of his eye briefly as he pulled out of the parking space and into traffic.

"Yeah." Cristina shook her head, unwilling to dwell on it any longer this evening. "We'll be fine. We always are. Once Meredith stops being stubborn…" Owen's sudden laugh made her eyes narrow slightly in his direction. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing." Owen made no attempt to conceal his chuckles but had the grace to look slightly abashed at her expression. "It must be difficult to have a relationship with someone who's so stubborn…" He trailed off at her raised eyebrow. "…Er, who has very strong, admirable convictions?"

"Nice save." She rolled her eyes at him. "Whatever. I can't worry about it now. I have my aortic valve repair tomorrow and then we have that dinner with the Zimmermans to think about…maybe we should have postponed it…"

"Early this week was the only time we could all work into our schedules," Owen reminded her gently. "And we're ready. We've talked about what topics could come up and we've gone over what we'll say. Dr. Wyatt said she could always fit us in for an appointment if we wanted to go over it all again in front of her. It'll be fine. It's dinner at our house with our colleagues, not an inquisition."

"I'm just not good with the whole…conversation…thing." Especially now, she mentally added, when they were both aware that there were sensitive areas of conversation they hadn't yet navigated with one another in front of other people in an informal, non-therapy setting.

"We'll deal with it together." His smile was soft but confident and she was quiet for a moment, thinking of the other reason she couldn't focus on Meredith and their issues right now.

Her surgery had been rescheduled by her doctor for the end of the upcoming week. Though Owen had maintained that he was still supportive of her decision-their decision-she was still apprehensive about whether or not that would still be the case when the sterilization procedure was completed, and how they would move forward afterwards.

Cristina felt he was being honest when he told her that he wanted a marriage with her more than he wanted children, but then she would watch him in moments such as that night, when he would play and spend time with Sofia and the uncertainty would arise again. Had she had given him enough time to deal with her decision this time? Was really going to be okay with everything when it was all said and done?

"Hey." Owen's voice made her resurface from where she had been immersed in her thoughts and his hand on her leg made her look up at him so he could catch her eye. "We're going to deal with it, all right? The dinner, Meredith…everything. We'll deal with it all together."

She didn't know how he knew, or if he knew, but she entwined her fingers with his and squeezed his hand, grateful for his attempt to temporarily reassure her.

* * *

"It was like watching two drunken strangers who spent the night together at a hotel meet at the front desk the next day." Mark tickled Sofia where she sat on his lap and the baby giggled in response.

"Thank you," Meredith emphasized, annoyed at Mark's rehashing of the encounter with Cristina and Owen downstairs. "It was awkward. Cristina and I were all awkward and whatever. I get it."

"We all get it. No further illumination needed," Derek confirmed, placing his still-healing hand at the small of Meredith's back to calm her. "New topic, Mark. For all our sakes."

"So, wait. You two are fighting? Why are you fighting?" Callie looked at all three of them, confused, and slightly intrigued by gossip and conversation not revolving around the pain she and Mark had been dealing with in the recent past. "Cristina didn't mention anything…" She stopped asking questions at the expressions on Meredith's and Derek's faces. "Okay, then. Never mind. Sorry I asked." She looked at Mark. "Diffusing a bomb in a haunted house that's built on a minefield bad?"

"Surrounded by bears with knives bad," Mark confirmed, wincing slightly as he shifted on the couch and held Sofia more securely.

"It's not that bad," Meredith protested, shooting Mark a dirty look. "And why we're fighting isn't important…well, it is. It is important," Meredith admitted reluctantly. "It's important to Cristina. I may have crossed a line…"

"You two have lines? Or what normal people call boundaries?"

"Shut up, Mark." Even as he was chastising his friend, however, Derek had a slight smile on his face at Mark and the banter that had been so infrequent lately. "They just need to talk and they'll be fine. They're the twisted sisters. They can fix it."

Meredith's expression indicated she wasn't as sure, but she didn't voice her concerns aloud and instead took her husband's advice and changed the subject. "Do either of you need anything?"

Callie and Mark looked at one another silently before turning back to Meredith. "We're okay," Callie confirmed, her voice lowering a bit. "Well, we will be."

"Yeah," Mark confirmed; his voice now filled with false bravado as his amused expression faded. "I have a temporary room here, I have Sofia…I have Callie." He cleared his throat. "We're going to be fine. We'll call if we need anything."

"We're here if you need us," Derek reinforced. He reached out to pat Sofia's head and to shake Mark's hand. "See you."

"See you." Mark nodded as Derek turned to say goodbye to Callie and as Meredith came to kneel next to the couch to say her own goodbye. "You and Yang will work it out."

"I know." Meredith put on the same bravado Mark had previously been using.

"Life's too short," Mark reminded her, meeting her eyes, the silent bond of their loss transcending the brief silence.

"I know." She smiled regretfully and kissed his cheek. "Call us if you need anything."

"Thanks." Mark looked up at her and a ghost of his teasing smile crossed his face. "You're not a bad friend, for a dirty mistress."

"Back at you," Meredith smirked before standing up fully and turning to Derek and Callie. "We'll see you both soon."

"Bye. Thanks for bringing him. And for taking care of him." Callie walked them both to the door, exchanging final goodbyes before closing the door behind them. She turned around to see Sofia sleepily curling into Mark's arms and Mark lost in his own thoughts as he sat there. "Guess it's just the three of us."

"Yep." Mark looked back at her and they both fell into silence, as if waiting to receive some direction as to how they should proceed from there.

* * *

"Okay. If one of them asks about how we got together?" Cristina took her favorite hair clip from her lab coat pocket so she could tame her hair up and out of her face. They had been going over questions that could possibly come up during that night's dinner all morning over breakfast and on the way to the hospital, but Cristina wanted to squeeze in a few more in the brief amount of time she had before scrubbing into her scheduled surgery.

Owen looked up from where he had been at the nurses' station, checking his tablet. "Uh…I pulled an icicle from your chest and swept you off your feet before leaving for Iraq, came back, you helped me through my PTSD, we realized how much we loved one another and couldn't live without one another?"

"No. Who would believe I was stabbed with an icicle? And that it lasted long enough for you to need to pull it out?" Cristina had Owen hold her clip while she quickly swept her hair into a loose bun. "We met here at the hospital when you were on leave from Iraq. I had an injury and you happened to be here to treat it." She took the clip from him to secure her hair in place save for a few strands framing her face. "If they ask about Iraq and you being in the army?"

"I served with the army for five years as a trauma surgeon and was honorably discharged, after which I came back to Seattle," Owen recited. He reached out to sweep a loose curl out of her eyes and behind her ear. "I think we're as ready as we're going to get."

She wasn't so sure, but as she checked her watch, she knew she didn't have time to stress out about it or protest since she needed to go scrub in. "I guess so."

"Good luck on your surgery this morning." He gave her a brief kiss before checking his own watch. "I need to get to the ER and see how Kepner's doing. I'll come find you this afternoon when I'm out of my meeting with the board so we can go home and get ready for tonight." Just as he was about to leave, he turned back towards her with a playful smile. "Have I told you lately you look good in the dark blue?"

She rolled her eyes at the thought of the sheer amount of times he had indeed told her how much he liked the attending's scrubs on her, but his observation had the intended effect and she was left smiling as he walked away to go about his day. She took a moment to refocus and shift into surgeon mode herself before she started heading towards the scrub room.

"Cristina." She looked up at the voice next to her to see Rachel Zimmerman falling into step beside her. "You have that aortic valve repair this morning, right?"

"Yes." Cristina couldn't help grinning at the thought of it and at the anticipation that was always present right before she was to scrub into a complicated surgery, that would later transform into the high that made her feel so alive when she was working on a patient.

"Does the patient have annuloaortic ectasia?"

Cristina nodded in confirmation. "It's fairly marked, so I'm going to plicate the two subcommissural triangles."

"Hopefully he'll live another twenty years with minimal risk of an aneurysm. Good approach," Rachel said approvingly as she consulted the chart she was holding. "Well, I guess I'll be seeing you later tonight, then. I'm glad we were able to arrange it so quickly. One more dinner of canned soup and I swear…" Rachel didn't bother to finish the sentence and merely grimaced at the mention of the meal. "Michael and I are looking forward to it."

"Us too." Cristina tried to make her voice as cheerful as possible only to quickly realize her voice simply could not manage that note of perkiness and be convincing. Fortunately, Rachel didn't seem to notice and she tried to make her tone a bit more relaxed. "Um, I'll see you later."

For the first dinner party she and Owen had ever hosted after months when they were barely co-existing together, she added silently, nodding at the older surgeon as she went off to her consult.

Cristina took a breath and resolved to worry about the potentially disastrous dinner later before she walked into the scrub room so she could handle the one aspect of her life where she was always sure of herself.

* * *

"Sit down," Callie instructed firmly as the toaster went off. "I've got it. Don't get up…" She raised an eyebrow at Mark in her patented annoyed expression, one that he usually ignored anyways. "Will you sit down and let me get breakfast…"

"I've been sitting or lying down for weeks. I'm done." At her open mouth and attempt to protest Mark talked over her. "I've been medically cleared to get up and move around. If there's a problem, I'll lie down, all right?"

She pressed her lips together but she knew, just as she was attempting to live her life as normally as possible after the events of the plane crash and Arizona's death, Mark needed to start living again as well. He also needed to continue to recover physically, and that meant getting up and moving and not relying on her or anyone else to do everything for him. "Fine." She turned back to Sofia who was playing with her activity gym. "He won't lie down," she informed Sofia. "He'll say he's fine and just keep doing what he's doing anyways."

"I can hear you." His voice was dry.

Callie smirked a bit and leaned over to tickle Sofia's belly and whisper to her. "He can hear us."

"Stop talking about me to our daughter behind my back right in front of me." Mark was busy putting the toast and the eggs Callie had made earlier on a plate. "We should have made scones instead of toast. I make a mean scone."

"So next time you can make scones." Callie wanted to roll her eyes but was stopped at the memories of Mark making scones with Arizona, and how annoyingly happy they had all been then, even though she had been less than enthused at the constant cooking and baking discussions. "Arizona made really good blueberry ones once."

Mark looked back at her, his eyes understanding. "I can try to make those." They were both silent for a beat as Mark poured coffee for the two of them. "Even though my ginger maple ones are legendary."

"It was more how Arizona served the blueberry ones than the scones themselves." Callie allowed herself to grin at how her wife had been able to share her culinary knowledge for once without boring Callie and without Mark's input. "You can't replicate that."

"I could try."

"I don't think so." It was slowly coming back, the banter, the easy way they had interacted before everything had gone to hell and they were alone but together. "But you don't need to ask to cook. Have at it." She sighed, remembering a time when she had used cooking to deal with being alone and in lieu of anything better to do when she was single. "You can teach me how to make ginger maple scones."

"Deal." Mark brought the plates over and set them on the coffee table, standing still for a moment before sitting down hard on the couch.

Callie looked on Mark as he lay there, exhaling from his efforts and from walking around more than he had since he had come home from the hospital. "Want me to get the coffee?"

"If you want." He didn't protest as she went and brought the coffee and as she helped prop him up with an extra pillow. "I was doing good up until then, right?"

"Yes," Callie assured him, keeping an eye on Sofia as she took a few bites of her breakfast. "Just…take it easy. Not too much too soon, okay? Sofia needs her daddy healthy. Right?" She leaned over to pick up Sofia as the baby began to crawl away and placed her on her lap. Sofia began to whine, wriggling in Callie's arms. "I've got to get her out of here for a couple of hours. I think we're going to take a walk after her morning nap. What do you think, Sof? You want to go out?" Callie kissed Sofia as she ate her breakfast. "If you're up to it…"

"I'd like to go with you," Mark agreed, his color returning a bit as he ate his own breakfast. "Getting away…getting out would do me good."

"It would do us all good," Callie agreed, looking around at the apartment that was full of memories for the both of them, grateful that someone got it, that someone could relate to what she was going through.

And that maybe the two of them wouldn't have to go through it all alone.

* * *

Cristina rolled her neck as she looked over the research she had accumulated for her Fallot's tetralogy surgery the following week. Though she had a short shift today, her morning and early afternoon had been busy with surgeries and several consults, as well as catching up on the stem cell trial and the progress made thus far, and it was the first time she'd had all day to sit down. She could have sat in her office, in the cafeteria, or in the abandoned corridor she, Meredith, Alex, George, and Izzie had once claimed for their own, or even in a chair behind the nurses' station, but for some reason today she had sought out an area she rarely went in the hospital.

The corner of the hospital library was quiet and she had taken it upon herself to sit on the floor there with her research in a pile next to her. She had the information on her laptop and it probably would have been neater and more organized to look over the research in her office, but it was quiet here and reminiscent of a time when she was a med student or an intern, studying all night in various libraries so she could be the best. It was comforting to return to that place, literally and figuratively, a place where she was sure of herself and of what she was doing there.

Even better, no one could find her here, and it was nice to have a place in the hospital where she could center herself and do what she needed to do without the voices of colleagues and patients surrounding her place of study.

"Hi." Well, almost no one could find her here.

Cristina looked up to see Meredith, uncertain but determined as she stood in front of her. "Hi."

"Can I…?" Meredith gestured vaguely towards the floor in the spot next to Cristina.

Cristina shrugged. "It's not my library."

Her friend took a deep breath before joining her on the floor, resting her arms on her knees. "What are you doing?"

"Research." Cristina was barely focused on the article in front of her, though, and she knew she wasn't fooling Meredith as she pretended to immerse herself in the pages in front of her. She didn't want to make it easier for Meredith by being the one to start the conversation they needed to have.

"That's…good." Meredith nodded, studying the floor almost as intensely as Cristina was looking at her research. "Um, Derek talked to Dr. Anders about his hand. They're going to try a nerve graft next, so…"

"I heard." The unspoken remainder of the thought hung in the air between them, that Owen was the chief of surgery and had known about Derek's progress and passed it on to Cristina. "That's good."

"Yeah." It was quiet once again and it seemed to frustrate Meredith to the point where she actually looked at Cristina as she spoke again. "I should have been the one to tell you about Derek. I want to talk to you. I want to be a part of your life again."

"I never shut you out." Cristina set her research down, effectively ending the brief charade and finally acknowledging Meredith. "You didn't want to accept my decision. You didn't want to accept Owen. You shut yourself out."

"I didn't mean to…" Meredith shook her head. "It's not that I wasn't accepting it or him. I was just trying to look out for you after everything…"

"You weren't looking out for me," countered Cristina, trying to keep her voice down but allowing her frustration to make itself present. "You've been questioning me ever since I decided to stay with Owen. If you were looking out for me, you would have supported me instead of trying to interfere or acting like you hate Owen…"

"I don't hate Owen," Meredith clarified hurriedly. "It's not like that. I'm sorry if it came across like that. But after everything…I mean, the choking, the whole Teddy thing, the cheating…"

"You don't get to bring up the choking. Owen had PTSD just like I did." Cristina's voice was low and even. Of all of the grievances, real or perceived, that Meredith had against Owen, that was one where she refused to give Meredith any leverage to talk about it. "Owen chose me and married me, not Teddy. And you, of all people, don't get to judge him on cheating."

"Derek and I were different. He wasn't in love with Addison, and me and Finn weren't…"

"It doesn't matter." Cristina cut her off firmly. "I supported you then. Even if I didn't like what Derek did or how you handled things with him, I was always there to support you. Now it's between me and Owen. Not you and me. He made mistakes. So did I. But we made the choice to stay together. I made the decision to fight for my marriage. I made my choice, Meredith. If you want to be my friend…then you need to accept my marriage."

Meredith was quiet for a long minute. "You choose him."

"Yes. I do." The emphasis resounded around them long after Cristina had said the words. "That doesn't mean you're not the sister I never had."

A small smile played on Meredith's lips. "I'm your sister."

"Yeah." Cristina looked at Meredith with her own faint smile. "The sister I never particularly wanted, but whatever."

The tension in the air had diffused a bit between them but Cristina needed Meredith to grasp what she was saying and her voice was serious once again as she spoke. "Owen's my family too. He's my person. So you can support me and be there for me and be on my side, but it can't be you thinking it's us versus him anymore. He's on my side too."

"I'm sorry." Meredith sounded genuinely apologetic. "I'm sorry I put you in that position. I'm sorry I said things about him and your relationship when you weren't asking for it. I'm sorry I hurt you."

Cristina nodded before meeting Meredith's eyes squarely. "He wants me, Mer. He wants me more than he wants a baby."

It was the first time she had said it aloud to her friend and it made the notion crystallize more fully than ever in her mind. The lingering doubts she'd had, fostered in part by the words Meredith had once said to her, had finally fallen away in the wake of her pronouncement. They had talked about it in therapy, she and Owen, and he had made clear to her many times outside of therapy that he wanted her and their marriage more than children, but now that she had confided it to her best friend, she realized that she believed it to be true. A weight seemed to lift from her shoulders even as she sat there and Meredith must have noticed, because her expression softened as she looked at Cristina.

"It was none of my business and I shouldn't have interfered. I'm sorry." Meredith bit her lip. "Derek's my person too. I should have realized it's what you have with Owen."

It was the first time Meredith had equated Cristina and Owen's relationship with hers and Cristina couldn't help shaking her head in disbelief at the validation.

"I mean, we're both married now. I have a daughter. Things have changed," Meredith continued, staring off in the distance before returning her gaze to Cristina. "So…I can be in your life?"

"You're in my life, Mer," Cristina assured her friend. "It's just…I don't need the extra room in your McDreamhouse anymore. I have a new emergency contact person." She tried to find a way to make her next words as gentle as possible, but they had never needed to coddle one another before and she didn't intend to start now. "It's not just you and me anymore."

"I know that." Meredith laughed a little. "When did that even happen?"

"When you signed the post-it and when I made it down the aisle at one of my weddings." Cristina allowed her voice to become snarky as they became more comfortable in the other's presence.

"So…you're saying we became shiny, happy people who don't have tequila and dance parties anymore?" The words came from Meredith's mouth as if she had swallowed something particularly distasteful.

Cristina scoffed. "Hell, no." She waited a beat. "And there will always be tequila and dance parties."

"Good." Meredith shook her head and smiled, and Cristina finally returned it, a genuine one this time. She didn't need Meredith on her side anymore, and she didn't need her to get it, but she wanted Meredith to be in her life, along with Owen, along with all her other friends that had somehow become her family along the way.

"Cristina?" Both women looked up at the voice.

"Of course," Cristina murmured under her breath, smiling at her husband's presence. He would be the one, aside from Meredith, who would figure out where she was hiding in the hospital. "Over here."

"Hey…oh, sorry." Owen seemed to step back almost unconsciously at the sight of Cristina and Meredith together. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I have some last minute administrative stuff to take care of but then I'll be ready to leave."

"I'm almost done here. I'll change and meet you outside the locker room."

"Great." He nodded and caught Meredith's eye. "Hey, Meredith."

"Hi, Owen." Meredith's tone was warm and the most civil Cristina had ever heard her friend act towards Owen. She could tell Owen was mildly taken aback as well. Cristina looked between them, the two most important people in her life, and was surprised at how emotional she was at the fact that Meredith was slowly trying to be supportive in a different way for her and her husband.

"I'll see you later." Owen exited quietly and left Cristina and Meredith alone again in the corner of the library.

"You're happy and shiny." Meredith sounded happy herself as she looked at Cristina.

Cristina wrinkled her nose. "Maybe happy. Never shiny."

"Maybe…it's okay to be happy and shiny."

She glanced at Meredith out of the corner of her eye and knew they were going to be okay, even at a stage where they had both changed and so had their relationship as friends, as the twisted sisters everyone knew them to be.

"I have to get going." Cristina broke the reverie as she stretched and moved to gather her research materials. "I have to go be happy and shiny so I can throw a happy, shiny dinner party like a normal, well-adjusted person for Rachel and Michael Zimmerman." She stood up and watched the expression of slight horror cross Meredith's face.

"You're not cooking, right?"

Cristina looked at Meredith as if she was crazy. "God, no."

"Oh. You'll be fine, then." Meredith grinned up at her and Cristina had to laugh in response before turning to leave, far lighter than she had felt recently.

* * *

"All right. Everything's done here. Lasagna's keeping warm in the oven and the salad's all done." Owen washed his hands at the kitchen sink. "I'm just going to put on a different shirt…" He turned to grab the towel on the counter and he caught her eye just as she was stealing another piece of the garlic bread he had made. The grin lit up his face and his eyes as he shook his head. "It's going to be a pretty pathetic dinner party without the dinner, you know."

Cristina merely stuck her tongue out at him as she took a bite of the bread. "Isn't it a rule that the people working in the kitchen get to taste the food before it's served?"

"It usually applies to the people who are actually cooking in the kitchen," Owen countered with a good-natured laugh as he walked past her to go to the bedroom to change.

"Hey. I opened the oven to see if the lasagna was done that one time," Cristina called back, stealthily making her way over to the salad to steal one last cucumber. Rachel had called to let her know that she and her husband were on their way, but Cristina had been starving as the aromas of the meal Owen had made filled the firehouse and she couldn't wait to try a little.

"You're kind of not supposed to open the oven until the timer goes off," Owen's voice came from the bedroom. "The black shirt or the blue one?"

"The blue." Cristina took a piece of tomato and ate it as she walked back to the bedroom herself to finish getting ready. She had decided to keep it simple by wearing her favorite black dress and leaving her hair down in its usual mass of curls but she wanted to add a couple pieces of jewelry to make the look slightly more polished.

She was in the process of putting in her earrings when she felt his arms wrap around her waist from behind and she smiled and leaned into it for a moment as he nuzzled her neck and as his breath tickled the sensitive skin there. Cristina then turned slowly in his arms so she could devour the sight of him wearing the blue shirt she loved because it brought out his eyes. "You clean up nicely, Hunt."

"Not so bad yourself, Yang." It was clear from his tone that it was an understatement as he settled his hands on her backside. "Any chance we can skip dinner and have a different kind of party with you wearing that little black dress?" He punctuated his question with a squeeze and she shivered in delight at the contact.

"Food with our guests first. You can have me for dessert later." She smirked at the lust in his eyes and proceeded to straighten his collar. "What kind of hosts would be if…?" Cristina's playful teasing trailed off as Owen's expression changed into one of surprise. "What?"

Owen took her left hand from where she had been fixing his shirt and held it in his for a moment, but just as he opened his mouth to say something the doorbell rang and brought them out of their moment and back into reality. "Guess we're on."

"Yeah." Cristina forgot about whatever he was thinking or going to say and smoothed her dress over her hips one last time before she went to the door to greet their dinner guests.

* * *

"All right. That's it for the dishes." Callie put the plate in the cupboard before turning to where Mark was reclining on the couch. "Do you want anything else as long as I'm over here?"

"You." Mark sounded exhausted and melancholy as he gestured for her to come to him.

She softened as she walked over to Mark and proceeded to curl up next to him for comfort on both of their parts. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just…" He exhaled as he wrapped his arm around her. "It's gonna take getting used to, finding a routine again."

"We did good today." With the exception of Mark needing to rest often throughout the day and a few times when mentions of Arizona or Lexie would cause them to dwell on the recent tragic events, they had managed to have a normal day: they had made meals together, taken Sofia out for a walk in the park, had done a few chores, and played with Sofia like they had in times before the plane crash.

"We did," Mark agreed, closing his eyes halfway. "We're a good team, Torres."

Callie froze at the word 'team' and tensed next to Mark, all of the worries and uncertainties suddenly taking her over full force. "Are we?"

"What are you talking about?" His eyes were open now and looking at her, concerned.

"Is this…are we a team? Or is this just a temporary thing while you recover? Am I a single mother now? How is this going to work?" She couldn't stop the words from leaving her mouth in a steady stream. "I mean, I'm going back to work soon. And you're still…you get really tired

and Sofia can be a handful when she wants to be. Maybe I shouldn't go back yet. I could call Hunt and ask for a couple of more weeks. I shouldn't be putting this on you when it's my responsibility to make sure Sofia has someone to take care of her…" Callie suddenly felt her words become muffled as Mark put a finger over her mouth.

"Stop." His voice was calmer and clearer than she had heard it in weeks and she looked up to meet his gaze. "It's my responsibility too. I'm fine taking care of her once you go back. If there are days when I'm not, we can put her in daycare for the day." Mark removed his finger from her mouth and gently put it under her chin to tilt her head up towards his. "I'm still Sofia's father and I'm still your best friend. That doesn't change because they're not here anymore." His voice caught a bit but he pressed on. "We're a team. We're going to get through this. We're going to help each other and we're going to learn how to live again. You don't have to be alone in this. We're family, Callie."

Tears filled her eyes as they had so often in recent weeks, only this time they were of gratitude for Mark being there and she leaned her head on his shoulder. "Thank you."

"Thank you." His murmur was buried in her hair as he kissed the top of her head and she burrowed into him, feeling as though something was finally somewhat right in a world that had gone very, very wrong for them.

The companionable silence was broken momentarily by Sofia's cries from the crib Callie had temporarily moved into her room, but neither of them wanted to give up the closeness or the comfort and they remained motionless on the couch.

"Teamwork, Torres."

"Teamwork only goes so far, Sloan." Callie nestled into Mark, unwilling to move just yet.

"You're her mother," Mark wheedled.

Callie rolled her eyes. "And you're her father. Next?"

Mark sighed dramatically. "Flip you for her?"

"Sure," Callie agreed innocently. "Could you go to my purse and get a coin?"

They both dissolved into rueful laughter before Callie couldn't ignore her daughter's cries anymore and got up reluctantly to go tend to her just as Mark made a move to stand as well. "No. Stay." She placed a hand on his chest firmly and forced him back down. "I've got this one."

Mark looked happy to stay where he was but then his eyes narrowed slightly in realization. "I'm going to be the one on diaper duty later, aren't I?"

Callie smiled brightly at him in contrast to his stony gaze. "We're a team."

He groaned at her sing-song tone as he settled against the cushions. "This is definitely going to take some getting used to."

Callie's overly enthusiastic smile faded slightly and her voice was serious again as she spoke. "One day at a time."

Mark caught her meaning and nodded firmly in spite of the fatigue slowly spreading over his features again. "We've got this."

She nodded back at him as much as for herself as for him before she went into the bedroom to take care of their daughter.

* * *

"You have a lovely home," enthused Rachel as she sat next to Michael at the dining room table. Cristina had given the two of them a brief tour while Owen had gotten dinner on the table and opened the bottle of wine the Zimmermans had brought.

"And you did the renovations yourselves?" Michael asked, waiting for his wife to sit down before he joined them at the table.

Cristina tried to refrain from inappropriately snorting at the characterization of her having anything to with the renovations on the firehouse. "Owen did the actual work. I just picked out some furniture and tiles and stuff like that."

"She helped a lot," Owen countered genially. "This place needed a lot of work when we first moved in. Cristina was the one who had to put up with the ripped up floors, the lack of a functioning kitchen, and dust settling everywhere for months."

"Sounds like our place now." Michael chuckled as he began to dig into his lasagna. "It's nice to sit in a house where we're not choking on paint fumes."

"Not anymore," Cristina deadpanned, sharing a slight smile with her husband at the memory of those first few months of major renovations and how the smell of the paint had given the both of them headaches.

"Yeah, this is the after version," Owen confirmed with a discreet wink in Cristina's direction before he began to eat his own dinner. "So aside from the work on your house, how is Seattle treating you? Are you both settling in all right?"

Both Rachel and Michael nodded as they ate. "It's a nice change from Minnesota." Rachel looked at her husband as he nodded in agreement. "And, of course, the job makes it worth it. Working with the best fellows in the field and all."

Cristina couldn't help the delighted flush that overtook her at Rachel's words and at the expression of pride on Owen's face.

"Seattle Grace does have excellent fellows. Karev is one of the best I've worked with in a long time." Michael's appreciative tone as he praised Alex turned into one of mirth as he continued. "He needs a little push sometimes, on the job and in his personal life, but he has a lot of potential."

"A push from you about his personal life?" Rachel fixed her husband with a knowing eye.

"He just needed a little help so he could make the first move with the ortho fellow he had his eye on." Michael looked at Rachel with an easygoing grin. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Yeah. Alex needs a lot of help," Cristina commented dryly, to the chuckles of the other people at the table. "If I have to be the one to give him a reason to talk to a beautiful woman…"

"You and my husband did well, then." Rachel took a sip of her wine. "Michael's certainly come a long way. He wasn't as good at reading signals when we first met." She smiled at the memory. "Both of us focused on our careers and clueless about how to have a relationship."

"Speak for yourself. I was a regular Don Juan," Michael protested, to the scoff of his wife and grins from Owen and Cristina. "Well, we eventually figured things out."

"We did." Rachel looked at Owen and Cristina. "Did you two meet on the job as well?"

"Uh…" Cristina instinctively found Owen's gaze before answering, the brief contact making her remember all they had talked about and how they would proceed in answering personal questions this evening. "I was actually his patient. Well…he was my patient first, and then I was injured…"

"We met while I was in the army and on leave from my tour in Iraq," Owen quickly intervened. "I was in a car accident and came to Seattle Grace. Cristina took care of my leg wound from the accident."

"So how did you become his patient?" Michael asked Cristina, taking a bit more salad.

"Um, I slipped and fell. It was icy," Cristina explained, not sure how they had gotten into the details of how she and Owen had met that night. "I had a…laceration and Owen stitched me up."

"You were on leave from Iraq?" Rachel turned to Owen. "So you weren't back in Seattle permanently yet?"

"No. No, I hadn't finished my tour yet. I returned to Seattle not long after that though." Owen stopped, the awkward pause becoming a bit too long before Cristina understood his reluctance and stepped in to smooth over the silence.

"He was honorably discharged and he came back to work at Seattle Grace." Cristina looked at Owen as he visibly relaxed and nodded slightly to let her know he was all right. "We…well…"

"Clueless as to how to go about having a relationship?" Michael smiled kindly and knowingly even as Cristina and Owen locked eyes, not about to correct their colleague on the sheer understatement of his question.

Rachel inclined her head in agreement. "It takes work. It takes a lot of work, time, and mistakes. We thought we had it all figured out and then we got married…"

"And we had to figure it out all over again," finished Michael. "And then we had Emma, and our lives and issues weren't our own anymore." He and Rachel chuckled and their eyes met as they shared the joke only they could understand.

It was the shift in conversation that Cristina had been apprehensive about and she took a sip of wine to brace herself for it. She glanced sidelong at Owen and was relieved as he picked up the slack.

"She's at Columbia, right?" Owen asked, taking his own long sip of wine. "Uh, how is that going for her? Has she decided on a major yet?"

Both Rachel and Michael sighed in unison, easing the tension a bit. "When we saw her for Yom Kippur she wanted to be pre-med. By spring break she was thinking of transferring to a different program." Rachel shook her head. "Emma's smart, but she has a lot of diverse interests. She's not sure what she wants to pursue yet."

"She's got a good head on her shoulders. She'll figure it out," Michael intoned calmly. It was clearly a discussion they'd had in the past. "Sometimes Rachel has trouble letting go and letting Emma decide what she wants to do…"

"I don't," Rachel protested, before considering. "Well, I'm a lot better than I was when she first went off to college." She sighed again, this time fondly. "You just want what's best for them, you know?" She looked between Cristina and Owen. "How about you two? Are you thinking about kids?"

The question was so simple and the answer on its own was simple: no, they weren't thinking about kids. The why and how they had come to that decision, however, was far more complicated and even though they had gone over it, even though Owen said and she felt that he had come to terms with everything…

"We've discussed it." Cristina lifted her head slightly to watch Owen as he spoke, the words neither as halting nor as hesitant as they had often been when the topic had been brought up in therapy. "We've talked about it a lot, actually. Especially after the plane crash and everything…" He met Cristina's eyes for a brief moment before he turned back to their guests, though she

sensed that he was speaking only to her now. "We're not planning on having children. We have our close friends, Cristina's godchildren and our parents as our family." He paused and Cristina tensed briefly before Owen resumed speaking, his tone and meaning clearer than ever. "And Cristina is all the family I need."

The words she had made clear to Meredith hours before came back to her now and she was left feeling even lighter in the wake of Owen reinforcing them, and the idea that he really was happy being married to her, and that he wanted her more than he wanted children.

She remembered the first attempts they had made to bring up the subject of children, and how neither of them had listened and how it had all devolved into a mess of hurt, miscommunication, and unresolved issues. To see how Owen could sit in front of their colleagues now and verbalize a decision they had come to together without anger or bitterness made her realize just how far they had come since those first unsuccessful, ultimately devastating attempts to discuss the issue of children.

It was difficult to tear her eyes fully away from her husband but she managed to pay attention to what Rachel was saying in spite of her suddenly overwhelming emotions.

"I understand. It's not easy, having a child when you have the career we have." Rachel's eyes were fixed on Michael and had a softer expression than Cristina had seen from her in the short time they had known one another. "There were some…difficult times."

"Everything all new parents go through in addition to the work we did as residents," Michael added. "We had a tough time dealing with that balance sometimes."

Cristina swallowed, thinking about that idea of balancing work and personal life, how it had once been a struggle for Rachel; and how so long ago she had once asked Ellis Grey if she could have both, a successful career and a successful marriage.

Ellis Grey admitted then that she hadn't tried hard enough.

"How did you do it?" The words left her mouth without her actively thinking about them and she could feel Owen's eyes on her in response. "Being in cardio, doing the job we do…how did you make it work?"

Rachel was quiet for a moment before answering but she still had that soft look in her eyes as she caught Cristina's gaze. "It was hard. Especially those early days of marriage and when Emma was a baby…there were a lot of questions I had to answer for myself and hard decisions I had to make. I had worked for years to be the best in my field but I wanted my family too." She reached for Michael's hand and squeezed it. "Michael helped me through a lot of it. He was there when I didn't know I needed him in those early days."

The thought that Rachel and Michael had gone through difficult times and were able to sit here now, having come through it all…Cristina hadn't realized she had needed it, but it gave her some measure of hope, that she and Owen could eventually get to that place as well.

"Owen does that for me too." Cristina's voice was quiet as she looked at Owen over her wineglass. His eyes said it all and she almost melted as she realized it was the same loving expression Rachel had been giving Michael.

It was far too easy to lose herself in the moment with him but she quickly went back to her dinner and to their guests, the soft smile never quite leaving her face throughout the remainder of their meal.

* * *

The Zimmermans had left, the kitchen and dining area were clean, courtesy of Owen, and another bottle of wine had been opened, courtesy of Cristina, so they decided to take it and a couple of wineglasses up to the rooftop to enjoy the evening and the success of their dinner party together. The night was cool and clear, and the wine warmed them both as they sat and talked at the table they had set up on the flat roof.

"I think we did well," Owen maintained, pouring each of them more of the wine. "It didn't get too awkward; we kept the conversation going…"

"Yeah. We're master conversationalists, all right." She had to smile in relief that her worries were unfounded and that the evening and proceeded without incident, and that they'd actually had a nice time getting to know their colleagues.

"No, I'm serious. Maybe we can do it again sometime with them. Or maybe with Meredith and Derek. I don't think we've ever had a night with just the four of us over here…" Owen trailed off at the look on Cristina's face. "Oh. Is that not…I thought the two of you had made up."

"We did." Upon consideration, Cristina elaborated. "But…it's different. It's going to be different, with me and Meredith, with you…"

"I have no problem with Meredith," Owen quickly interrupted. "I know she and I have had some run-ins and I'm probably not her favorite person, but she's your best friend. I would never ask you to not have her in your life."

"She's always going to be my best friend. For better or worse," Cristina added dryly, causing Owen to chuckle. "We've been through a bomb in a body cavity, her drowning, a shooting, a plane crash, slutty nurses and no eyebrows. I think I'm stuck with her." She shook her head at the thought before she looked up at him. "And you're my husband." She took his hand and traced his fingers with her own. "We've been through…"

"…Hell a few times and back again?" The question was one asked with a faint smile by Owen, at the memories and experiences no one else but them were truly privy to.

"Yeah, let's go with that. So you're stuck with me." She returned his understanding gaze and gave his hand a light squeeze. "What happened before-I don't want that. I don't want you feeling like I'm choosing her over you. You're my person and she knows that now. So…you get to know things first. Most things," she amended. "If you need me…I'm not going to ignore you for her. If something is important or has to do with Zola, I'll still be there…"

"I know." Owen nodded in confirmation. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

"And she does not get to come in our bed." The words were said with a sense of finality, because it was a boundary among others she intended to keep in place so she could have both Owen and Meredith in her life, as her chosen family.

"Thank you." His voice was soft with gratitude and appreciation and he squeezed her hand back before he paused again, fixing her with that same surprised expression he had worn just before the dinner party had begun.

"What is it?" She smiled teasingly even though she was confused. "Did I have tomato in my teeth all through dinner and you're just now telling me?"

"No." Owen rubbed his thumb over her left hand, specifically her ring finger where her engagement and wedding rings were currently adorning it. "You usually don't wear them in the house. Even for a nice dinner like this."

Cristina had forgotten she had slipped them on right before she put on her earrings that evening and looked at the rings she didn't wear often. She could still see Owen's face in her mind; both when he had given her the engagement ring and when he had placed the wedding ring on her finger during the ceremony.

Looking at Owen now, she shrugged and unconsciously ran her fingers over the cool metal. "I'm not a ring person. But these mean something to me. And I know what they mean to you. I want to start wearing them more often."

It was an admission that wasn't planned but it was what she felt, and she felt his hand grasp hers gently once more in response as they shared the rest of their evening together on the rooftop of their home.

* * *

"_You can choose your friends, but you can't choose your family." It's true that everyone has a family by blood. Many people will always be bound to that first family they know. The reality is, however, that one's family expands and changes over time just as the bonds within a family change over time: a friend becomes a sister, a husband becomes a best friend, and a best friend becomes a partner. Consciously or not, we can choose both our friends and our family, or to have our friends be a part of our new, chosen family...the one with which we choose to face the world._


	8. Wishin' and Hopin'

**"Wishin' and Hopin'" - Episode 8 of Season 8.5, by angelamermaid**

_The first day of medical school is an exciting one. You're full of hopes and dreams. You can look to the future and see all of the patients you'll save, the discoveries that you'll make, the awards that you'll win. All you have to do is walk through the door and start learning how to be a doctor._

_You are never given a wish without being given the power to make it true. You may have to work for it, however._- Richard Bach

Owen stood in the waiting room outside of Dr Wyatt's office, staring out of a window. His hands were clasped behind his back, the fingers of his right hand touching the wedding band on his left. He smiled. He and Cristina still had much work to do on their marriage, but they were definitely going in a good direction.

"Good news!" Cristina bounded into the area. "I'm cleared to return to work tomorrow."

"Great!" Owen grinned, giving her a quick kiss. "I'm sure Rachel will be glad to have you back."

"And I can resume … relations," she said huskily, slowly stroking the side of his face.

"Uh huh." To her surprise, Owen didn't look that excited.

"What's wrong?" Fear gripped her – did he regret the surgery she'd undergone a week ago, to end her fertility once and for all?

"Well … I want to make sure I don't hurt you," he told her.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not in any pain. If you want, we can be ... creative with our positions." Then she took his hands. "Tell me that you're not with-holding sex from me. Tell me you're okay with me having had the procedure."

Owen smiled gently and squeezed her hands. "I'm okay. I'm grateful that you gave me the time I needed. And if you insist, I'll prove that I'm okay, by working with you to find just the right position …" He kissed her then, his talented mouth promising much more.

"Ahem." They turned to see Dr Wyatt standing in the door of her office. She smiled. "Ready for our next session?"

oOoOo

Later that evening, Derek sighed and closed his laptop. Meredith, seated beside him on the couch, smiled and rubbed his arm. "Nervous?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" He exhaled and lifted his left hand. "Tomorrow, my life will change."

"You have two of the world's best plastic surgeons performing the nerve graft. The odds are in your favor."

"But there's no guarantee."

"True." She laid her head against his shoulder. "I'm not going to be shiny and happy and tell you that you can just become a professor, pass on your knowledge. It wouldn't be that easy."

"Thank you for not being perky." He softly smiled. "I'm tired of people being so damn cheerful."

"What I do know is that we've assembled the best surgical team possible. We stacked the odds the best that we could."

"But there's no guarantee."

Meredith clasped his hand and bestowed a kiss on it. "That's for luck."

oOoOo

Working quickly, Cristina placed candles around the bedroom. When she was done, she stepped back to admire her handiwork.

"Not bad, Yang, not bad." She double-checked to make sure they had condoms, as per her surgeon's recommendation in the short-term. Then she sat down on the bed, and sighed. She had to admit it, she was worried.

They'd discussed her surgery many times. She'd waited until she felt Owen was honestly ready for it, before going ahead. For her, it had been a simple thing to undergo. The events since the abortion had been traumatic for both of them, and she knew their marriage couldn't survive another accidental pregnancy. So she had done what was necessary to prevent one, and now was ready to move forward. But was Owen?

Hearing his key in the front door, Cristina leaped off of the bed. She quickly began lighting the candles.

Owen slowly came up from behind her. "What is this?"

"I thought I'd create a ... stimulating environment." She lightly ground her ass against him.

He chuckled. "I heard you today. You need reassurance that I'm not mad at you or holding back." His arms encircled her waist while he gently kissed the back of her neck.

"Uh huh. And since you still haven't given me your wishlist, you need to make _my _wish come true," she teased.

His breath was hot in her ear. "As you wish."

She closed her eyes, smiling.

"Tell me if anything hurts," he murmured, sprinkling soft kisses. His hands moved higher, to cup her breasts.

"So far so good." Cristina leaned against him.

"I mean it," Owen said, against her ear. "I'll do whatever you tell me to."

She smirked. "Oh really?"

"What do you want?"

"Take my shirt off," Cristina said. "And yours."

Chuckling, he obeyed, pulling off her sweater before unbuttoning and removing his shirt. "What next?"

She reached behind and unhooked her bra, letting the garment fall to the floor. "As you were."

Still standing behind her, Owen reached for her breasts again. Ever so slowly, his hands gently explored her body, removing clothing until they were both bare.

Eyes closed, she barely noticed that he was guiding her away from the bed, until they were facing the full-length mirror in their bedroom. She looked at their reflections, together as man and woman.

"Watch yourself," Owen murmured in her ear, before proceeding to put his hands to good use.

The scene in the mirror was breathtaking. She knew, she knew without a doubt, that he was touching her in love. He wasn't hiding her emotions from her, this wasn't sex as a distraction, he was making love to her. Just the way he used his hands to cherish her, the very deliberate caresses of his fingers, spoke so much about his emotions.

As Cristina felt the beginnings of her climax, their eyes met in the mirror. She felt an erotic rush, so intense that she cried out and her knees began to falter. He held her with one arm, pulling her against him, never letting his other hand falter.

When she started to return to the now, Owen tenderly kissed her cheek. "You okay?"

"Mmm-hmmmm." She smiled at their reflections. "No pain."

"Good." He grinned wickedly. "Ready to try some positions?"

"Oh yes."

oOoOo

The next morning, Callie nervously checked her purse again, while Mark chuckled.

"You'll be fine," he assured her. "You are completely ready to go back to work."

"I don't feel completely ready," she muttered. "But, I am completely tired of sitting around and feeling sorry for myself. And you're ready for me to leave you at home by yourself."

"I'm not alone." He picked up Sofia. "We'll be fine without you. Go to work."

She just stood there and looked him, doubtful.

"I said '_go_'," Mark laughed, opening the apartment door for her. "Go be Dr Torres again. Fix bones. Heal people. Be the awesome doctor that you are."

"Thank you." She smiled gratefully, before quickly kissing Sofia and walking out the door.

oOoOo

Owen grimaced as he looked in the mirror and adjusted his tie. "I miss wearing scrubs," he muttered.

Smirking, Cristina hugged him from behind. "They were easier to strip off of you." Her fingers coyly tugged on his tie.

"Do you want to be late for your first day back?" He chuckled.

"Are you kidding?" Cristina snorted. "I need to cut something today."

"Just remember to take it easy," he cautioned her. "If I think you're overdoing it, I won't hesitate to send you home so you can regain your strength."

"Bossy." She kissed his cheek. "I hear that Mahoney has been scrubbing in with Rachel while I was out. I need to get in there and re-establish myself. And, busy schedule or not, I'm still waiting for you to give me your wishlist."

"I told you some of my wishes."

Cristina rolled her eyes. "Implementing your trauma preparedness plan in other hospitals is a professional wish. I want to make your personal dreams come true."

Owen smiled and shrugged. "We're working on our marriage. That's my dream."

"Nice, but you can't get out of that so easily." She kissed him again. "I want a wish from you by the end of today."

"Yes ma'am."

oOoOo

As was his new habit, Alex swung by Erika's apartment to pick her up for work.

"Good morning!" She climbed into his car and greeted him with a kiss. "Did you get home all right?"

"I did. Sleep well?"

"I did." Erika smiled as he pulled away, wondering when he would ever spend the night. They'd been taking things slowly ... and the pace was starting to feel glacial. Erika knew that he'd had a rough time with the aftermath of the crash, and she had still been adjusting to her move. But now, now she was ready to go to another level.

"Dr Torres is coming back today," she said. "I hope I can scrub in with her soon, I'd love to see her in action."

"She's amazing. When she gets into her groove, she makes miracles happen." Alex turned a corner. "I told her about you, she wants to see you in action too."

"Aw." She glanced at him as he drove. She could hardly believe her luck, finding someone like Alex. He had his rough edges, to be sure. But when it was just the two of them, Alex opened up and revealed himself to be kind and funny and attentive. Little things like him picking her up everyday made him perfect in her eyes.

"Listen ..." Alex coughed. "I told her about you professionally, but not personally."

Erika raised her eyebrows. "Oh?"

"She's been really messed up since losing Dr Robbins. I didn't want to talk about my love life with her when I visited."

"Okay." She nodded. "That's sweet of you."

"Maybe we should keep things quiet around her for a little while."

"I see."

Alex glanced at her. "I'm not embarrassed by you, I just don't want to remind her of what she's lost."

"Alex, the whole hospital knows. We eat together in the cafeteria, we hang out together at Joe's, nurses walk in on us making out in closets."

"I know, I know. I just don't want to hurt her."

Smiling, she touched his arm. "I don't know where you got your reputation as a hard ass."

Grinning, he looked at her before turning his attention back to the road. He still couldn't believe that a woman like Erika wanted to date him. She knew all about his less than pleasant characteristics, but she was still there. He didn't think he deserved someone so kind and understanding. It certainly didn't hurt that she had a quick wit and was incredibly hot.

He wondered when they'd take things a little further. What they had was so new to him, he didn't want to ruin it by rushing things. Yet he ached to take her to bed, to show her how much she meant to him.

oOoOo

April obsessively arranged her clipboard as Owen approached her. "Dr Hunt!" She beamed. "How are you today?"

"At ease, Kepner," he chuckled. "I just wanted to check in you before I head into a meeting."

"Everything is just fine in the Pit." She gestured around her. "I predict a quiet day."

Owen grinned. "Don't you know that's bad luck?"

"Oh crap!" She clapped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry."

He shook his head and smiled. "What did I tell you about being a better doctor? Relax on the formalities. You can say 'crap' in front of me. And most of all … be _assertive_. I want to see a strong and confident Kepner throughout today."

"Will do, sir!" She sighed. "I mean, Dr Hunt. Crap."

"There you go!" Owen laughed as he left for his meeting.

oOoOo

Cristina was reviewing a chart when Dr Zimmerman approached her, followed by a grinning resident.

"Nice to see you back Yang," Rachel said.

"Glad to be back," Cristina smiled.

"I'm sorry to do this to you, but I'll be performing the valve replacement," the older woman informed her. "Mahoney here has been showing some promise in Cardio, and I'd like him to scrub in with me."

"Oh, okay." Cristina handed her the chart. "Is there another surgery you'd like me to perform?"

"No, I'd like you to handle my post-ops." She gestured and Mahoney dumped a pile of clipboards in front of her. "We'll start you off easy today."

"Thank you so much for the opportunity Dr Zimmerman," Mahoney said, following Rachel to the patient's room.

"Suck up," Cristina muttered, picking up the first clipboard.

oOoOo

"Look who's back!" Bailey smiled at Callie by a coffee machine. "How is your day so far?"

"Busy! Good busy," Callie smiled back. "You'll have to catch me up on what's going on, I don't know any of the new fellows or residents."

"Here's one you should get to know." Bailey gestured to Erika, who was walking towards them. Callie recognized the young woman that she'd interviewed for the Orthopedic fellowship.

"Dr Torres!" Erika grinned. "I'm so glad you're here, I've been waiting for a chance to scrub in with you."

"The feeling is mutual, I've been hearing great things about you. So how do you like Seattle?"

"I really like it," Erika said. "I've bought a house and am taking possession in a couple of weeks."

"Big step!" Callie smiled warmly. "Have you lined up a mover?"

"Oh, my boyfriend is going to help," Erika said. "I don't have that much stuff."

"Boyfriend? Did he move with you?"

Erika blushed. "No, I … met him in Seattle."

Bailey chuckled. "You make him work while helping you move. Tell him I said so."

Curious, Callie leaned forward. "Who is this guy?"

Blushing even deeper, Erika stammered. "I'm, um, sure you don't want to hear about my love life, Dr Torres. I'll, uh, see you later." She quickly fled.

"Oh God." Callie rubbed her forehead. "I'm the Widow Torres. She doesn't want to tell me about her boyfriend because I'm to be pitied."

"Don't be silly," Bailey snorted.

"She's not the only one," Callie sighed. "I happened to be walking in the front door when one of the physical therapists was kissing her husband goodbye and she apologized. None of the nurses will gossip with me now. I've been cut loose from the hospital grapevine."

Bailey opened her mouth to retort, when both of their pagers went off. She looked at her device and frowned. "Multi-vehicle crash incoming."

"Someone must've jinxed the Pit," Callie said, as she read her own pager.

oOoOo

"Dr Zimmerman!" Cristina ran after Rachel as she waited for an elevator with Mahoney. "I've finished the post-ops, I could scrub in on your CABG you've got later."

"That's okay, Yang." Rachel smiled benignly. "Mahoney is going to observe, we don't want too many people around the table."

"Dr Zimmerman is awesome," the young resident enthused.

"Agreed." Cristina stood taller. "I hear that we have multiple crash victims incoming, I could go to the Pit and assess?"

"They'll page me if they need someone." Rachel handed a stack of papers to Cristina. "Why don't you go over the equipment requisition forms for our new research lab?" She turned to answer a question from Mahoney as they entered the elevator. He hung on her every word as the doors closed.

Cristina made a face as she looked at the papers. "This is not surgery!"

oOoOo

In the Pit, paramedics were shouting over each other as they brought in occupied stretchers. As the injured people were yelling and pointing fingers at other drivers, interns and residents quickly stormed in and started laying claim to patients.

"No!" April said, raising her voice. "This is not how we do triage! We have processes to follow!"

To her horror, she saw Owen approaching. She quickly stepped in between two interns who were arguing over who had seen a patient first. "Gentlemen! Please listen to me!"

The interns paused before yelling at her.

"He keeps stealing patients!"

"He keeps killing patients!"

April glanced at Owen, who was looking grim. She inhaled and began to scream. "I said, listen to me! _Everyone, shut up and follow my protocols!_"

All medical staff paused and turned to look at her. Even the patients stopped yelling at each other. Bailey was giving her a death stare.

"Thank you," she squeaked.

"Dr Kepner?" April turned and saw Owen in front of her. He was wincing. "A word with you?"

"Sir?"

He spoke to her quietly. "We've been over this before. You have to command respect, not dictate it."

"I know, but I forgot, everyone was shouting and nobody could hear me."

"They heard you. The staff, the patients, they all heard you loud and clear." Owen tried to smile encouragingly. "Just remember what I said. And I want to see that you scrubbed in one of these patients, that you're keeping your hours up."

"Yes Dr Hunt," she responded faintly.

oOoOo

"Dr Torres, you asked for me?" Erika entered the OR, prepped for surgery.

"I did." Callie continued working on a young patient on the operating table. "This little guy needs more than one pair of hands to save his leg."

"What a mess." Erika clucked as she looked back and forth between the x-ray and the shattered leg of the young patient on the surgery table.

"The perfect challenge for my first day back," Callie grinned.

Moving quickly, they managed to untangle a mass of nerves and shattered bone.

"Well done, Chamberlain," Callie said.

"Thanks." Erika smiled behind her mask. "I'm glad we get to work together, I've been looking forward to this."

"Thank you." Callie glanced up at her. "You can talk about your boyfriend in front of me, you know."

Confused, Erika said nothing.

"We're colleagues and hopefully we'll be friends. Just because I'm a widow now doesn't mean that I'll burst into tears at someone else's happiness."

"Okay." The younger woman suctioned away some blood while trying to think of what she could say.

"So tell me about this guy. Is he one of the good ones?"

"He's awesome." Erika grinned. "He's shown me around the city and really helped me settle into Seattle."

Callie smiled. "Go on."

Encouraged, Erika began to speak. "We don't have to go on any fancy dates to have fun. I like that I don't have to dress up and do my hair, we like to watch sports on TV and drink beer. He gives amazing foot rubs. And he's very hot. I really really like him."

"Is he moving in with you?"

"No, we haven't been going together that long. We're, uh, taking things slow."

Callie looked up. "Really? He can't be any of the doctors here, then."

Erika laughed. "Going slow was his idea, he's been burned before."

"Huh." Callie placed a few careful stitches. "I always think guys just say they want to take it slow to please the woman, but really, they're raring to go."

"He's had a rough time lately, I don't want to pressure him," Erika demurred.

oOoOo

Cristina pursed her lips as she finished checking all of Rachel's forms. Feeling a bit tired, she sat down on a stool and looked around their sparse research lab. Her face took on a pensive expression as she tried to envision the room as the birthplace of groundbreaking and award-winning discoveries.

"Good afternoon." Owen appeared in the doorway, holding two cups of coffee.

"Coffee!" She eagerly reached for the cup he extended to her.

Concerned, Owen brushed a lock of hair off of her face. "You're pale."

"You should talk."

He smirked. "You're paler than you should be. I'm going to take you off surgery today."

"What?" Cristina put down her cup. "I haven't cut yet today, that's not fair."

"Your hand shook when you reached for the cup," Owen responded. "I don't think you're ready to hold a scalpel today."

She opened her mouth to challenge him, then shut it. She knew by the look in his eyes that he was going to be stubborn about this. And she was tired, but why did he have to do this on a day when Rachel wouldn't let her cut?

"Fine," she grumbled. She'd just have to find some way to avoid more paperwork today.

oOoOo

Alex entered the OR, holding a mask over his face. He cautioned himself not to reveal his relationship to Callie. "I heard you guys will need me to scrub in on this patient?"

"Very soon," Callie muttered. "We've almost finished saving this leg." She looked up. "Hey, you're a guy. Answer a question for me."

He nodded.

"When a guy says he wants to take it slow, does he really mean it or is he just saying it?"

Erika's eyes widened while Alex looked puzzled. "Huh?"

"Erika here says that her awesome boyfriend wants to take things slow," Callie said. "But I don't know that guys are really like that."

Alex grinned widely behind his mask. "Awesome, huh?" He felt exhilarated by the rush of joy in his veins.

"Yeah, she's a smitten kitten," Callie informed him, oblivious to the amused glances of the nurses. "He rubs her feet."

"Well…" Alex was enjoying hearing what Callie was telling him, but he noticed how red his girlfriend was turning. "Maybe he has his reasons for going slow. Like maybe he usually dates crazy chicks and wants to make sure he's not making another mistake. Now Dr Chamberlain here is a cool lady and maybe if she lets this guy know it's time, maybe he'll speed things up."

Erika's eyes sparkled at him over her mask.

"There you go." Callie nodded to the younger woman. "Show this guy that you're not crazy."

"I think I will," she smiled.

oOoOo

Quietly, Cristina walked around the Pit. She told herself she was just there to offer assistance. The sight of full beds thrilled her and made her hands itch to cut. Casually, she started to look for unattended patients.

"Hey." Meredith waved her over. "How are you today?"

"I'm good," Cristina shrugged. "How did Derek's surgery go?"

"It was textbook," her friend replied. "No surprises, no complications. The surgeons are optimistic. Now, we wait."

"I hope it helped. I can't imagine not being able to cut, ever." Cristina sighed. "Rachel and Owen have kept me out of surgery today."

"You had surgery a week ago," Meredith said carefully.

"It was a minor procedure done laparascopically," Cristina protested.

"And you look tired." Her friend checked her watch. "I'm going to pick up Zola and take her to see Derek. Talk to you later."

"Bye." Cristina waved, then continued to look for a patient she could help herself to. Spying an older woman resting on a bed, eyes closed, she stealthily grabbed her chart. Her eyes lit up. "Appendectomy. So simple."

A hand reached out and held onto the chart. April glared at her. "What do you think you're doing?"

oOoOo

"Dr Chamberlain?" Alex walked up behind Erika and placed a hand on her elbow. "May I consult with you about a patient?" He quickly guided her to an on-call room.

"Why Dr Karev," Erika smiled, as he pressed her up against the door. "I don't see a patient in here."

Alex kissed her, placing both hands against the door, trapping her against him. "I lied."

"Tsk tsk." She gently bit his lower lip, her hands moving to his waist.

"Now what was that about your awesome boyfriend?" He grinned at her.

"What was that about crazy chicks?" She giggled in the most endearing way.

"Nobody's ever called me awesome before." His next kiss was deep and lingering.

When they broke for air, her eyes were hazy and her lips swollen. "Are we done taking it slow?" Erika asked, huskily. She arched her back so that her hips were against his, sending a very clear message.

"We're done."

oOoOo

"I thought I could help today," Cristina said. "I'll just take care of this patient-"

"No, you won't." April's voice was firm. "I'll be performing the appendectomy."

"But the Pit is so busy." Cristina's voice was sugary. "Surely you can't do it all."

"I've got it handled." Eyes narrowing, the resident wasn't going to back down. "This is _my _patient, Dr Yang."

"Oh come on!" Cristina snapped. "I'm an attending now, you're still a resident. I outrank you." She tried to yank the chart from April's grip.

Dr Kepner held onto the chart. "I know that you're not supposed to perform surgery today. I repeat, this is my patient."

"I could report you for disobeying me," Cristina hissed. "Forget about passing your boards next year."

April's eyes were steely. "I don't care if you're an attending and you're married to Dr Hunt. _I _will perform the surgery and I have _no _problem telling the Chief that you tried to steal an appendectomy when you're not supposed to operate."

Thunderstruck, Cristina stepped back. She wasn't just surprised at April's reaction ... she suddenly realized she was playing with fire. Without a word, she turned around and marched out.

"Oh my god!" April gasped. "I was awesome!" In her moment of triumph, she didn't notice that five feet away, Bailey was looking at her with satisfaction.

oOoOo

"Water," Derek croaked. Meredith promptly handed him a paper cup, with a bendy straw. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." She sat by him, cuddling Zola.

"Greg said everything was textbook?" He asked for the tenth time since waking up from surgery.

"He said it was perfect."

Derek closed his eyes, wearily. "Now we wait."

She reached out and clasped his right hand. "Now, we wait."

oOoOo

Owen walked into the gallery above where April was operating. He was surprised to see Cristina sitting there, pensive.

Quietly, he took a seat next to her. "How's it going?"

"She's doing well," she observed. "She's becoming an excellent surgeon."

"Good."

Cristina exhaled. "You know, we're investing a lot of time and effort into our marriage, but we don't talk about our professional relationship."

Owen turned to look at her.

"I almost defied you today," she admitted. "I was shut out of surgery by you and Rachel and I went down to the Pit. I told myself it was to help assess, but I knew what I really wanted to do. I tried to poach that patient and Kepner stood up to me."

He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

"I remembered what you said in therapy," Cristina continued. "About that day when Teddy and I disobeyed you. I realized that if I'd gone into surgery, I'd be risking everything we've been working for. So I backed down."

She glanced at Owen, expecting a negative reaction. To her surprise, he was smiling.

"Thank you for telling me, Dr Yang," he said.

"That's all you have to say?" She sat up. "How long until you'll let me cut again?"

Owen shrugged. "If I feel that you're physically up to the task tomorrow, I have no problem with you performing surgery."

"What about Rachel?"

"I don't know why she pulled you from surgery today."

Cristina frowned. "Did you tell her about the procedure?"

He shook his head. "That's our business. She knows that you took a week off for medical reasons. It's up to you if you want to give her more details."

"Okay." She settled back into the chair. "You're really not mad?"

"Nope."

"You're not holding anything back?"

Owen took her hand. "I'm not holding anything back. I won't blow up at a birthday party tonight." He squeezed her hand, gently. "You made a mistake. And you caught yourself, and you told me about it and I appreciate that."

Cristina looked at him again. "April told on me, didn't she?"

"Bailey wanted to tell me how Kepner was assertive and your name came up," he grinned. Then he leaned forward and kissed her. "You did good, Yang."

oOoOo

Sighing, Callie signed the last of a stack of forms. She hadn't missed the paperwork aspect of her job.

She looked up as two people spilled out of an on-call room, laughing. Her eyes widened as she watched Alex grab Erika and give her a tender kiss.

"You!" She pointed at him. "And you!" She pointed at Erika, before bursting into tears.

"Oh my god!" Erika exclaimed, while Alex's face fell. "We're sorry, we didn't mean to upset you!"

"We're really sorry," Alex said, walking over and putting an arm around her. She pushed him away, laughing.

"I'm _happy _for you two!" Callie gasped. "Don't apologize!"

Alex grinned while Erika was confused.

"You found out that Alex is a nice guy when he's not an asshole!" Callie told Erika, eyes sparkling. "And Alex! You found someone willing to see past your bullshit! This is terrific!"

The two lovers shared a smile. "Yeah, she's great," Alex admitted.

"And he's awesome." Erika grinned.

"Group hug!" Callie pulled both of them into her arms. Erika looked questioningly at Alex.

"She likes to hug and cry a lot," he told her. "Get used to it."

oOoOo

On her way out the door, Cristina paused when she saw Rachel reading a chart by a nurses station. She straightened her shoulders and walked over. "Hi."

"Hello." Her mentor looked at her. "How are you doing?"

"I want to know why I was kicked out of surgery today," Cristina blurted out. "Yes, I was out for medical reasons but I was cleared to come back. The valve replacement and the CABG wouldn't have been strenuous."

Surprised, Rachel took a moment to compose herself. "I didn't kick you out of surgery. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't wear yourself out."

"My doctor said I was ready for surgery."

"Cristina..." Rachel laid a friendly hand on her arm. "I'm sorry. I wanted Mahoney to watch some relatively simple procedures, and I thought you'd find it draining and tedious to have him hovering right by you. He asks a _lot _of questions."

"Oh." She blinked. "So you weren't punishing me for something?"

"No." Rachel smiled gently. "I was just trying to protect my star surgeon."

That made Cristina relax. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Rachel coughed lightly. "Look … I didn't pack up my life and move to Seattle to watch you do paperwork. I want to challenge you and I want to see you shine. And I don't want to wear you out."

Cristina began to smile a little.

"Now go home and get some rest, Yang. You're pale."

"Can I cut tomorrow?"

Rachel grinned. "Only if you show up with some color in your cheeks."

oOoOo

Giddily, April left the locker room. She giggled as she pulled out her cell phone and dialled her best friend.

"Hey," Jackson answered. "What's up?"

"I was bad ass today!" April laughed. "Cristina tried to steal a patient and I stood up for myself and I won!"

"Tell me all about it," he chuckled.

oOoOo

Cristina looked up and smiled, as Owen entered the living room. He bent down and kissed her, before leaving her with the medical journal she was engrossed in. Gradually, she became aware that he was lighting candles all around the room. "What are you doing?" Cristina smiled.

"I thought of a wish that you could help me with," he replied. "I'm establishing the mood."

She grinned. "Are we going to try more positions?"

That made Owen chuckle. "We can do that. But first … I need your full attention."

She marked her spot before closing the journal, as he approached her. To her surprise, he got down on one knee and took her hands in his.

"Cristina." Owen smiled at her. "I want you to know that the days since we reconnected have been the happiest of my life. Thanks to our hard work, I look forward to our future together."

Touched, she squeezed his hands.

"The two of us … we're _incredible_," he continued. "We have a big life ahead of us, and I'm so grateful for that. I will always be your person."

"And I'm yours."

"So …" His eyes were warm with emotion, as his thumb caressed the rings on her left hand. "Will you marry me again?"

_When you're in medical school, you think that you're working towards your career. What you're really working towards is your life. You'll never graduate if you can't figure out how to work with others for the best possible outcome. Learning how to diagnose and treat diseases will be difficult, but learning how to live a happy and fulfilled life is the hardest task of all. And the most rewarding._


	9. Season Finale Sneak Peek

**A Note from the GA 8.5 Authors:** Greetings to all of you who have been following GA 8.5 over the summer. We had hoped to have the season finale posted by now but real life challenges and obligations have slowed us down a bit. Plus, the season finale is always team written so some (okay, a lot of) assembly is required. Thank you for being patient with us. Our goal is to post the season finale episode next week, which actually works out kind of well since there won't be a new S9 episode due to the U.S. Vice Presidential Debate. In the meantime, here's a Sneak Peek to whet your appetite and lift your spirits. In our world CO are in a much better place at present than on our TV screens. Enjoy!

**GA 8.5 Sneak Peek**

"Hey!" Cristina said, coming up the steps of the firehouse, Chinese takeout in her hands.

Owen smiled and moved to help her with the food.

"Hey, yourself…" he said, giving her a quick kiss. "How was your day? I barely saw you."

"Fine," she said, dropping down to the couch, exhausted. She put her head back and closed her eyes. "Yours?"

"Lots to do to get really to go, but it was fine. Who won the contest?"

Cristina started to answer then stopped herself, eyes popping open as she sat up.

"How do you know about the contest?"

"You're not the only one who knows things," he replied cryptically. "I know things about my hospital. So who won?"

"Callie," she said, leaning back again. "And we get a prize. She's making us dinner and delivering it."

"Nice." Owen said, smiling broadly. "Ask for chicken piccata."

"Great idea. So what have you been doing?" she asked, surveying the papers scattered on the table.

"I've confirmed our reservations at The Fairmont and finalized the arrangements for the house in Napa. I also printed our boarding passes." Seeing her brow furrow slightly he added, "We can still drive, if you'd rather. It's not a big deal." He sat down beside her on the couch, slipping his arm around her shoulders. "Whatever you want to do is fine by me." He kissed her forehead gently.

She smiled up at him. "I know. And I appreciate it. But we're doing this. I need to do this. Pretty soon I'm going to be getting invitations to present at conferences. There will be other trips for us. I need to get over it."

"But…"

"Meredith was…surprised we were flying...but I told her I'd be okay." Cristina rubbed her fingers together absently. She turned to Owen. "I'm not sure I could do it alone. Not yet, anyway. But you'll be with me. And I can do it if you're with me."

"I will always be with you," he said, tenderly.

"I know." She kissed him gently on the lips. "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked, puzzled. "I love you. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

"For being my person, she said, simply. "I love you. I don't tell you enough."

"You do just fine." He pulled her closer to him. "So what are we doing in San Francisco? Any special requests? I can't wait to see your old stomping grounds."

"I do have a few things in mind. I'm working on getting us into a fabulous restaurant. The waiting list is months long, but I may be able to call in a favor."

"Sounds intriguing. Anything else?"

Cristina paused for a moment. "Actually, yes. You know how we talked about renewing our vows and then inviting everyone back here for a party afterwards? Would it be alright with you if we did the vows in private, maybe on our trip? I like the idea of it being just us. We can still have the party, if you want to…maybe up on the roof?"

"That sounds perfect," Owen replied, nuzzling her neck. "I like it..."

"We have to pack," Cristina said. But she pressed her lips to his, wrapping her arms around him.

His hands were roaming her body now. "Um…hmmm…" He pulled off his shirt and gazed at her fiercely, eyes blazing.

Cristina leaned back on the couch and pulled him towards her. "The food is getting cold," she said, smiling.

"So?"


	10. Come Away with Me

_From the time they enter med school, surgeons are trained to live and breathe their work. As interns and residents, their lives are consumed by surgeries, consults, research, and more surgeries – all in the name of learning and doing more. They work and push to become the best in their field, and it never slows down. However, there comes a point in every surgeon's life where there's a moment when they ask themselves if there isn't something more._

"Come on," Callie said for the third time. "We're going to miss it!"

A wave of irritation washed over Miranda Bailey as she struggled to keep up with Torres' long stride. "Just what are we in danger of missing?" she asked testily. "And why do I have to be there? I have surgery…"

"You're coming because it will be fun. Remember fun? We're finding out where Yang and Hunt are going on vacation!" Callie said, grinning at the perplexed expression on Miranda's face. "Today's the big reveal!"

"And we care about this why?" Miranda asked pointedly.

"There's a contest. And I am so gonna win," Callie replied.

"Win what? Not…money? You bet actual money on where Yang and Hunt are going on vacation."

"Yep. And in…let's see," Callie checked her watch, "about three minutes I'm going to be two hundred dollars richer."

"Two hundred dollars!" Miranda stopped dead in her tracks. "How on earth... Does Hunt know about this?"

"No, and you're not going to tell him," Callie said, opening the cafeteria door and scanning the room. "It was Karev's idea. Stop judging. It's unbecoming. There they are. Let's go."

Miranda did a quick head count as they crossed the room. "How much did each of you put in, for heaven's sake?" She saw only Karev, Chamberlain, and Kepner.

"Only twenty. You don't have to be present to win," Callie said, waving to the group. "Did we make it?"

"Just barely," said Alex. "Have a seat. Yang's on her way." He eyed Miranda warily. "Dr. Bailey."

"Karev." Miranda didn't even try to mask her obvious disdain. "So how does this work?"

"They finally narrowed it down to ten destinations. Each of us picked the place we think they're going. Winner takes all. Well, basically," Alex said.

"Basically?" Miranda said, raising an eyebrow.

"Winner has to do something nice for Cristina," said Callie. "But for two hundred bucks it's so worth it!"

"You are out of your minds," Miranda said. "Who does that?"

"Ask your fiancé," Alex said, smirking.

Miranda looked shocked. "Do you mean to tell me…"

"You don't have to be present to win!" Callie repeated, as Richard Webber rushed to the table and sat down.

"Did I miss it?" he said, panting. "My surgery ran long."

Miranda stared at him in stunned disbelief. "Sir? Really?"

"Oh, stop!" he said dropping into a chair, eyes twinkling. "Live a little!"

"I give up," she said in resignation. Turning her attention to the others, she continued, "Where did you pick?"

They looked at her blankly.

Miranda spoke again. "Where. Did. You. Pick? Chamberlain?"

Erika looked up, startled. "I picked hiking."

"You picked hiking?" Miranda asked, incredulous. "Hiking."

"What's wrong with hiking?" Erika asked, defensively.

"Cristina Yang does not hike, particularly in light of recent events," Miranda replied, as Erika glared at Karev who shrugged. "Kepner?"

"Palm Springs!" she chirped. "It's lovely, luxurious…"

"It's a desert," Miranda said emphatically. "Owen Hunt isn't going back to a desert any time soon anymore than Yang is going back to the woods. I don't care how luxurious it is."

"Jackson picked Hawaii!" April protested.

"Hawaii isn't a desert, despite the sand, but Hawaii is an equally ridiculous selection. Am I right?" she asked, turning to Callie for confirmation.

"In his defense, Jackson really had no way of knowing that Cristina went to Hawaii with Meredith after her non-wedding to Burke," Callie added hastily.

"Sloppy," Miranda clucked. "Karev?"

But Cristina and Meredith had arrived, lunch trays in hand. They took the last two chairs.

"Excellent timing," Alex said in barely veiled relief. "Let's go."

"Keep your pants on," Cristina said, popping a French fry into her mouth. "Where's the fire?"

He glanced quickly in Bailey's direction as Cristina grinned. They all looked at her expectantly.

"What?" she asked. "Oh, right. Drum roll, please…" They all tapped on the table. "Owen and I have decided to vacation in…Northern California. One week in San Francisco, the second week in the Napa Valley."

"Yes!" Callie shouted triumphantly. "Yes, yes, yes!"

"Crap," Alex muttered, handing her an envelope of cash. "I picked staycation."

They all burst out laughing, as Erika patted Alex's hand consolingly.

"Seriously?" Cristina snorted. "No. Owen likes the firehouse, but he's insisting we actually leave town for this. No staycation."

With that, everyone began to get up and leave now that the show was over.

"I wasn't thinking," Erika said to Alex. "You might have said something."

"And where would the fun have been in that?" he teased, slipping his arm around her as they kissed.

"I'll tell Jackson," April said. "He'll be bummed."

"I'll let Mark know," Callie said. "He won't be surprised. He picked Alaskan Cruise. Like that was ever gonna happen. Miranda can tell Ben. That should be fun!" Miranda threw her a withering glance. "Come on, let's go. The torture is almost over."

"For my 'something nice,' I want dinner! Homemade and delivered!" Cristina called after them.

"Done!" Callie replied. "Let me know what you want and when you want it!"

"Unbelievable," Miranda muttered.

As Richard stood to leave he turned and implored Cristina, "Make sure Owen actually relaxes. He needs this. It's not easy being the chief. Not easy."

"Yes, sir, I'll take care of him," Cristina smiled.

Meredith stared at Cristina after they were alone. "California?"

"What?" Cristina asked, already anticipating what was coming.

"You're getting on a plane?"

"I'm getting on a plane."

"I picked Vancouver. I didn't think you'd get on a plane."

"Owen left the choice up to me. He said we could drive. But, I need to do this, Mer. I'm not going live in fear my whole life. I won't do it. And Owen will be with me. How's Derek's physical therapy coming along?" she said, changing the subject.

"Really, well," Meredith replied. "He's beginning to believe he'll operate again. He's going to be disappointed that he lost the contest. He picked the Canadian Rockies. He was sure that a Romantic Adventure by Rail was in your future. You're getting on a plane?"

"I'm getting on a plane."

* * *

"Hey!" Cristina said, coming up the steps of the firehouse, Chinese takeout in her hands.

Owen smiled and moved to help her with the food.

"Hey, yourself…" he said, giving her a quick kiss. "How was your day? I barely saw you."

"Fine," she said, dropping down to the couch, exhausted. She put her head back and closed her eyes. "Yours?"

"Lots to do to get ready to go, but it was fine. Who won the contest?"

Cristina started to answer then stopped herself, eyes popping open as she sat up.

"How do you know about the contest?"

"You're not the only one who knows things," he replied cryptically. "I know things about my hospital. So who won?"

"Callie," she said, leaning back again. "And we get a prize. She's making us dinner and delivering it."

"Nice." Owen said, smiling broadly. "Ask for chicken piccata."

"Great idea. So what have you been doing?" she asked, surveying the papers scattered on the table.

"I've confirmed our reservations at The Fairmont and finalized the arrangements for the house in Napa. I also printed our boarding passes." Seeing her brow furrow slightly he added, "We can still drive if you'd rather. It's not a big deal." He sat down beside her on the couch, slipping his arm around her shoulders. "Whatever you want to do is fine by me." He kissed her forehead gently.

She smiled up at him. "I know. And I appreciate it. But we're doing this. I need to do this. Pretty soon I'm going to be getting invitations to present at conferences. There will be other trips for us. I need to get over it."

"But…"

"Meredith was…surprised we were flying...but I told her I'd be okay." Cristina rubbed her fingers together absently. She turned to Owen. "I'm not sure I could do it alone. Not yet, anyway. But you'll be with me. And I can do it if you're with me."

"I will always be with you," he said, tenderly.

"I know." She kissed him gently on the lips. "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked, puzzled. "I love you. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

"For being my 'person,'" she said, simply. "I love you. I don't tell you enough."

"You do just fine." He pulled her closer to him. "So, what are we doing in San Francisco? Any special requests? I can't wait to see your old stomping grounds."

"I do have a few things in mind. I'm working on getting us into a fabulous restaurant. The waiting list is months long, but I may be able to call in a favor."

"Sounds intriguing. Anything else?"

Cristina paused for a moment. "Actually, yes. You know how we talked about renewing our vows and then inviting everyone back here for a party afterwards? Would it be all right with you if we did the vows in private, maybe on our trip? I like the idea of it being just us. We can still have the party, if you want to… Maybe up on the roof?"

"That sounds perfect," Owen replied, nuzzling her neck. "I like it..."

"We have to pack," Cristina said. But she pressed her lips to his, wrapping her arms around him.

His hands were roaming her body now. "Um…hmmm…" He pulled off his shirt and gazed at her fiercely, eyes blazing.

Cristina leaned back on the couch and pulled him towards her. "The food is getting cold," she said, smiling.

"So?"

* * *

As soon as the bellhop departed and they were alone in their palatial hotel suite, Cristina jumped backwards onto the king sized bed and lay there like a starfish, eyes closed in contentment as she sunk down blissfully into the mattress.

"Oh, this is heaven," she sighed.

Owen was torn between the panoramic view of San Francisco through the windows and that of his beautiful wife, her hair fanned out on the coverlet and her top having ridden up a little way to expose the smooth angles of her hipbones.

She won as always.

He turned his back on the view and went over to sit beside her on the bed.

"Wow, this_ is_ heavenly," he said in surprise at the softness of the mattress. "Scoot over."

She duly rolled onto her side; and he lay down facing her, gazing into her eyes and thanking his lucky stars for the thousandth time that they were here – still together and still so in love.

"Thank you for bringing me here," Cristina said softly, lacing her fingers through his. Her rings caught her eye in the afternoon sunlight, and she smiled. "I'm already enjoying this vacation more than any I've been on before."

Owen raised his eyebrows. "We've only been out of Seattle for about five hours."

"I know. So take the compliment already." She poked him in the chest and then sat up. "Now, where's the champagne we were promised on arrival?"

"Hey, not so fast." He kept his arm around her waist and tried to pull her back down again. "Can't we just lie here a while longer?"

There was something subtly suggestive in his tone which she instantly noted, and it made her smirk. "How about you pour us a glass each while I go change into something more...slutty."

She was never one to mince her words, and Owen felt his heart rate suddenly spike. He had been wondering just how soon they would rip each other's clothes off – and had correctly predicted that it wouldn't take long at all. When she disappeared into the bathroom, he popped the cork and poured them each a drink before stripping down to his boxers. Gazing out at the glorious view across the water from their fifteenth floor suite, his whole body tensed with hormones and anticipation, and he wondered why on Earth they hadn't done this whole vacation thing sooner.

A few minutes later he turned to see his wife emerge looking absolutely stunning in violet lingerie – her hair wild and her gaze both playful and confident. The sexiest thing about her was that she knew how hot she was and was never afraid to show it. Owen couldn't stop a groan from escaping as she walked towards him, his whole body reacting to her in the most enjoyable way.

"Cheers," she said with a smile, picking up a glass and toasting him. She brushed past him to look out of the window. And he stood close behind her, wrapping one arm around her waist and burying his nose in her hair, allowing his fingertips to roam over her bare skin.

"You look incredible," he murmured in her ear, biting down gently and feeling her shiver from head to toe. "You are incredible."

Cristina, for all her sexy self-confidence, just turned to putty in his hands. It was his smell, his lips, his bare chest against her back.

It was him, her husband, the love of her life.

She spun round for a kiss and tasted the champagne on his tongue and that was that. They were lost.

"Happy vacation," Owen whispered into her neck as he pinned her against the window, her legs wrapping around his waist. "Two whole weeks of this..."

She silenced him with kisses, already too impatient for talking. If she'd known a trip away with Owen would be like this, she would have let him persuade her a long time ago.

* * *

That evening, they dined in the vibrant hotel restaurant, which was designed like the deck of a ship with brightly colored lights and live music, sipping cocktails late into the evening and soaking up the busy atmosphere.

"So, tomorrow," Cristina said over her passion fruit margarita, "should we go see the Golden Gate Bridge? Or I could take you around Berkeley?"

Owen brushed his thumb over the back of her hand on the table and smiled. "Actually, I was hoping we could just stay in bed all day tomorrow. It's been an exhausting year, I feel like I'm finally able to relax here. Plus, we need to try out the room service, the hot tub, and all the lingerie and toys you packed."

Her eyes widened slightly. "You weren't supposed to know about those."

"I didn't, but I had a pretty good hunch." He chuckled, pleased that his prediction was correct. "I know you. And I love you."

"I love you, too." She squeezed his fingers in hers and indulged in a little moment of pride at how often they said those words now, and how easily they rolled off her tongue.

It seemed Owen was thinking the same thing. "We've come such a long way, haven't we?" he mused.

"Yeah, about eight hundred miles," Cristina quipped before her smile became more devious. "How about we go a little bit further – say, fifteen floors up to our bedroom?"

Owen watched in amusement as she downed the last of her cocktail. "Is that a proposition?"

"No," she said, getting to her feet and holding out her hand towards him. "That's an order. Coming?"

Never one to disobey a direct order, Owen finished his drink and stood. He playfully squeezed her ass and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Only after you."

"Naturally."

* * *

After their first day lounging around in their suite – alternating between sleeping, making love, and cuddling up in the hot tub – they spent the rest of the week seeing all the sights San Francisco had to offer. From the Golden Gate Bridge to Chinatown, a boat trip around Alcatraz to Berkeley where they visited Cristina's old apartment and favorite college bar, they arrived home each evening exhausted but exhilarated by their adventures.

On their final morning in the city before a day at the beach on the way up to the Napa valley, Cristina received an email on her phone confirming that they had a dining reservation at the very exclusive Chez Panisse for that evening. She had never eaten there before despite numerous invitations from her former professor, the one and only Colin Marlow, while they were together. He seemed to have a table reserved most weekends just in case she ever gave in and agreed to go out on an actual date with him. Getting dressed up and going out just wasn't her thing back then; and eventually he'd stopped inviting her, and she'd stopped noticing.

But that was another life now. Cristina Yang, the cardio fellow, who had survived a plane crash and gotten married to the only man she had ever wanted to be with forever – this Cristina wanted to make the effort and dress up every once in a while.

The restaurant was beautifully decorated and the food exquisite, a different menu served every single evening and made from the freshest local ingredients. They fit right in: Owen in his dark suit with an open collar and Cristina in a little grey dress, her hair falling around her shoulders. They toasted one another with perfectly chilled white wine; and she gazed at him across the table and realized that she knew every line in his face now, every fleck of dark blue in his eyes, every freckle and every smile.

When did that happen? It was hard to say for sure. Looking back, she could barely remember a time when she felt like she _didn't_ know him inside out. They'd always been vulnerably exposed to one another: there had never been anywhere to hide and never would be. He would always know her, and she would always love him for that – for his implicit understanding, his kindness and patience and his everlasting adoration.

After the meal, they strolled back towards the waterfront and looked out across San Francisco Bay, the Golden Gate Bridge proudly lit up in the distance. Owen came up close behind and wrapped his arms around her. They stood there in the navy blue light of dusk, neither quite knowing how to describe the magnitude of the scenery before them.

"You are so good to me," Cristina said after a while, still partially absorbed in her revelation from dinner. "Remember the first time we met?"

Owen kissed her hair, her ear – his lips warm on her cool skin. "You were beautiful, and feisty, and charming. And kind of helpless – a real damsel in distress. I think that's what really got me hooked."

She laughed and squeezed his arms more tightly around her. "My knight in shining armor."

"Always."

Cristina leaned back against him and closed her eyes, letting the gentle summer breeze drift across her face as her mind rewound over the evening. "I can't believe how good that food was," she murmured, still able to taste the dessert on her tongue. "We have to go there again sometime."

"Definitely. Can your mystery contact get us another reservation?"

She opened her eyes and turned her head slightly to look at him, realizing she had never actually told him who she had been emailing about the table. "I don't know. It wasn't supposed to be a mystery. It was just Colin Marlow. He knows everyone who's anyone in this city."

Owen couldn't help but raise his eyebrows. "Colin Marlow your ex-professor? Ex-boyfriend?"

"Yes." She turned around fully now and gazed at him, amused. "Don't worry, I told him very firmly that I was taking my incredibly handsome and sexy _husband_ out for dinner. Not jealous, are you?"

"No, not jealous," he replied truthfully. "Just surprised. His was the last name I was expecting you to say."

"Well, I wanted to take you to the best restaurant in town, and he was just the means to an end. We've only emailed. I haven't even spoken to him."

"Cristina, it's totally fine. I don't care." He kissed her cheek, trailing his lips along her jaw. "What I'm far more interested in is what you were saying about your very handsome, sexy husband..."

She let her head fall back to give him better access to her throat, the scratch of his beard both heavenly and torturous. "I was saying that he should probably kiss me right about now..."

"Really?"

"Uh huh."

"Okay then."

Owen pressed his smiling lips to hers, sliding his fingers into her hair and breathing her in. Sometimes he would look at her and think he couldn't possibly love her any more, but every time he kissed her he was taken aback by the depth of that love – by how it took over his body, his mind, his whole world. She was everything he needed, and everything he ever wanted.

* * *

Owen stepped out of the bathroom and raised his eyebrows. "What are you doing?"

Cristina was laying out a blue shirt and khakis for him. "I want you to wear this for the vow renewal."

"Ah." He hugged her from behind. "I've never seen you pick out clothes for me before."

"It's a special day." Her eyes were warm and amused. "And you look hot in blue."

"I do?" Owen kissed her. "Thanks for not making me wear another suit."

"On vacation? On a beach? Nope." She kissed him back, before picking up a garment bag. "Why don't you finish packing while I change?"

When she stepped out of the bathroom minutes later, Cristina took Owen's breath away. Her hair was pulled up, with loose tendrils framing her face and the back of her neck. She was wearing a dusty pink sundress with red cherry blossoms embroidered on the gauzy overlay.

"I'm a lucky man," he grinned, before gathering her up in his arms.

* * *

The sun shone down on them as they pulled into the parking lot of Rodeo Beach.

Owen looked out at the beach. "This looks nice. Not a lot of people."

"Uh huh. It's kind of a place that only the locals know of." She turned to him. "Ready?"

He smiled. "Ready."

They exited the car. Cristina smoothed her dress, then slipped off her sandals. She picked them up before stepping onto the sandy beach.

Owen kicked off his shoes before joining her. He was dressed in khakis with a dark blue shirt that she'd picked out for him. As far as she was concerned, he should always wear blue – if being shirtless was not an option.

Taking Owen by the hand, Cristina starting walking along the shore. "My father brought me here when I was eight," she mused.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She smiled. "I wore a red sundress that day. Guess I like red."

"It looks good on you." He lifted their joined hands to his mouth, and kissed her fingers.

"And when I needed a break from school, I would come here," Cristina continued. "This was a place to clear my head and just forget about my grades. Out of time, out of space…" She squeezed his hand.

Owen chuckled. "This is a…prettier…place than the vent." They walked along, letting the water cool their bare feet. The sun was muted through the fog of a typical San Francisco day.

She glanced at him. "You're the only person I've ever brought here."

"I'm honored."

Cristina stopped walking and took both of his hands. "You're the only person I've told about my father… and that night."

Moved, he leaned his forehead against hers. "You have no idea of how much that means to me."

She smiled slightly. "I have a clue."

"I mean it." His eyes were intense. "I was thinking about quitting that day. And then… then you opened yourself up to me, and you told me about your father's death and how that shaped your life. And I knew, I _knew_, that you were someone special. You were a single malt scotch, and I changed my mind. I stayed because of _you_."

Cristina was touched, and amused. "Really? 'Single malt scotch'?"

"My favorite nectar." Owen kissed her. "Strong, heady. I can never have my fill of it."

She kissed him back, before pointing. "See that quiet space by those rocks?"

"Uh huh."

"I think that's the perfect spot."

Still holding hands, they walked to a secluded area where they wouldn't be disturbed. They placed their shoes off to the side before joining hands and facing each other. The air felt hushed and reverent.

Owen grinned boyishly at Cristina. "Thank you for making this wish come true."

She squeezed his hands, her eyes amused and warm. They'd agreed on some parts of what they were about to do and written some things in private. Now was the time to recommit to each other in their own words.

"Cristina…" Owen smiled gently. "We've travelled a difficult road to get to this place. Along the way, we've clarified our intentions and our commitment to each other. Now, I'm affirming to you that our marriage is my priority. Should there be sorrow between us, I will be brave and take the first step towards healing. I will be by your side for the rest of your days."

Moved, Cristina took a moment to savor the love in his eyes, before speaking. "Owen. I … I _can't_breathe without you." She looked directly at him. "I promise that every day, I will be by your side. I promise that every day, I will seek harmony for our life together. I know that neither of us is perfect, and I know that we will love and support each other through the good times and the bad."

He shifted a little closer. "I take you, Cristina, to be my cherished wife. With all of my love, I welcome you into my heart. I dedicate myself to building a happy and healthy life with you. Our home will always be a sanctuary of warmth and peace. I vow to you that I am your partner, your ally, your person."

Her hands gripped his tighter. "I take you, Owen, to be my beloved husband. With you, my life has meaning and joy. I pledge that I will be by your side for always. I will laugh with you, and I'll cry with you, and I'll grow with you. With all of my heart, I swear to you that I am your person."

They stood still for a moment, looking at each other, with joy and love in their hearts. Then Owen spoke again. "To have and to hold."

"In sickness and in health." Her voice was hushed but firm.

"For richer or for poorer."

"In strength and in weakness."

They paused, before speaking together. "For as long as we both shall live."

She leaned towards him as his lips met hers. Time stood still, as they sealed their covenant with a kiss.

* * *

Cristina's giggles echoed throughout the empty firehouse as Owen carried her effortlessly up the stairs. "You don't think carrying me over the threshold is a little cliché?"

"I thought this was easier than us tripping up the stairs." In spite of the intimacy they had shared so plentifully on their vacation, it hadn't stopped them from making out like teenagers in the back of the taxi they had taken from the airport back to the firehouse and on their way up the stairs of the firehouse. "I have to go back for the luggage…"

"Mmm." Cristina pulled Owen to her for yet another kiss, not yet ready to start unpacking or to accept that their vacation was indeed over. "Later."

Her murmur into his mouth only made their kisses more insistent as he backed her onto the lounge next to the stairs – the nearest available surface where they could entwine around one another again. Owen pulled away briefly after a few moments, though, to Cristina's dismay. "Wait." His lips pressed against hers softly to delay her protest before he stood up.

"What…?" She reclined on the lounge with a pout, but the pout softened into a smile as she watched him go over to the wine rack and pick out a bottle of red. "Trying to get me liquored up, Hunt?"

"It worked well for you this past week." His grin as he poured a glass for each of them made her start giggling again. While the city had been fun to return to and explore with Owen, it had also been a whirlwind of visiting different sites and being on the go. Their week in wine country, in contrast, had been full of relaxation in the house they had rented and on the leisurely wine tours they had taken. She hadn't expected to enjoy their time in Napa as much as she had, but they had both been so relaxed and so in tune with one another that the retreat had been one of her favorite parts of the vacation.

Not least of which because tasting wine all day and bringing back a few bottles to the rental house at night had led to a pleasant buzz and many playful and intimate moments between them.

It was one of the reasons she hadn't wanted their time in California to end as much as she wanted to get back to work and to cutting. She didn't want to lose that intimacy and that time alone with her husband just yet.

"Welcome home." It was déjà vu all over again as she was reminded of their first night in the firehouse, when she had been the one holding the champagne and the glasses and revealing that this place would be their first home together as a married couple.

He set the bottle of wine on the table next to the couch and handed her one of the glasses before settling next to her. She curled up on his chest comfortably as they clinked their glasses in a toast and drank. "Did you have a good time?"

She nuzzled into his chest before responding. "I did." Being away from Seattle, being alone with him, showing him some of her favorite places in San Francisco, then relaxing in Napa Valley, renewing their vows for themselves and no one else…it had been perfect. "We should do it again sometime."

He kissed the top of her head in response and wrapped his arm around her before speaking. "So, next time we go on a vacation to California, it'll be to see your mother in Beverly Hills, right?"

Cristina rolled her eyes and took a long sip of wine as Owen chuckled. "If we ever go visit my mother, I can guarantee it's not going to feel like a vacation for anyone involved."

"Got it." They lay there together quietly, and it occurred to Cristina that even though she would miss their time away together, she loved and treasured these moments alone with Owen in their home just as much, and especially after all the hard work and difficult decisions it had taken for them to get to this place. "This was… Thank you for this, Cristina."

She knew he meant for more than just the vacation, and she met his eyes and reached up to gently stroke his face in response. "Don't thank me. I wanted to do it."

His kiss was soft and tender before it began to deepen, and it wasn't the wine that was creating the buzz anymore as her leg wrapped more insistently around his and as their hands began to wander. She dimly felt him take the glasses away before they were embracing one another in earnest, making use of the limited space on the couch to get all the more creative.

The kisses and the laughter echoed throughout the firehouse – something that had been missing there for so long. And Cristina reveled in the playfulness and the passion as they lost themselves in the first of many moments to come in their renewed life together in their home.

_No matter how dedicated we are with our work, we all need a break from it every now and then. It gives us time to be with our loved ones and reminds us of what else there is outside of surgery. We can all use a temporary distraction to reinvigorate our passion for our work – and life itself. To rediscover the things we live and breathe for._


End file.
